Pity Comes Too Late
by Lyn Harkeran
Summary: What if Christine hadn't been able to change the Phantoms mind? What if she made the decision to spend her life with the Phantom, to save Raouls' life? Can Christine ever truly love the deformed Erik? This is a story about those what-ifs. Erik/Christine
1. Chapter One: The Choice

** Chapter One: The Choice**

"_Down once more to the dungeons of my black despair. Down we plunge through the prison of my mind. Down that path into darkness deep as hell. . . ."_

"_This face which earned, a mothers fear and loathing. A mask. My first unfeeling scrap of clothing. Pity comes too late, turn around and face your fate, an eternity of this before your eyes. Join me, make the Music of the Night. . . . " _

_

* * *

_

All of them had waited for this moment. Raoul, Madame Giry, Meg, Andre and Firmin. All had sat on the edges of their seats, wondering would the accursed Phantom attend. They had set up the trap perfectly. The cast was performing his composition, Don Juan Triumphant, and they had called the police. Nothing was out of place. Now they only had to wait.

* * *

Christine screamed as the rope tightened around Raoul's neck. He gasped and tried to loosen it, but the Phantom had caught him by surprise, and had the upper hand. Within seconds, Raoul was unable to move; his hands tied up around his head.

The Phantom turned to her, "Start a new life with me and you buy his freedom with your love. Refuse me and you send your lover to his death. This is your choice. This is the Point of no Return."

"Please. . . . Don't do this." Christine begged, "Please."

"It's too late for prayers and useless pity. Make your choice. Do you spend your days with me? Or do you send him to his grave?"

Christine sobbed, looking from her beloved Raoul to the man she had once called her Angel of Music. This was impossible. How could she choose? Who would she choose?

"Christine my patience grows thin." The Phantom warned, tugging on the rope. Raoul gasped as he did so, and coughed trying to breath.

_If I let Raoul die, there is no life for me. _Christine reasoned. _But if I stay with my Angel I loose him anyway. . . . _

"Christine don't give your life away for my sake." Raoul said in between more gasps. "Please don't give in to him! That's just what he wants!"

"Indeed that is what I want Vicomte. Who wouldn't what is rightfully theirs?" The Phantom spoke calmly, though his eyes showed a different emotion entirely.

Christine walked down to the waters edge. She slowly said the words that she had been dreading. "Alright my Angel. . . I will stay."

"No! Christine! No!" Raoul yelled struggling against his bonds trying to free himself. "No!"

The Phantom looked at her with unwavering eyes. "Promise you will stay with me, and be my wife."

"I promise."

The Phantom turned to Raoul drawing back his fist and hitting the struggling Vicomte right in the face. He stopped moving as the fist came in contact with him. His head sagged, and blood dribbled from his mouth.

"Raoul!" Christine cried running forward towards him. Just before she made it the Phantom grabbed her arm.

"Let me go!" She said in frustration.

"He is fine Christine, merely unconscious." The Phantom said wearily.

"Why would you do that? I agreed to go with you!"

"He must not see the way we exit. Don't worry about him, I'm sure those meddling police will be down shortly, and they will find him."

Christine looked into her Angels' eyes, and although she hated him for what he had done. She couldn't deny that she still loved him, and cherished him as her Angel.

"Come." He said briskly pulling her in the direction of his many mirrors. "We must go."

Christine looked back at her fiancée one last time while the Phantom stepped in front of a beautiful full length mirror.

"Are you ready?" He asked, not looking at her.

"Yes." She whispered, knowing that he would hear.

He nodded and tapped the glass, making it shatter. In the place where the glass had once been, there lay a passageway.

The Phantom took her hand, and pulled her through it. Once they were inside a black curtain slid over the entrance and they were enveloped in darkness.

* * *

**This was kinda abrupt, but I just had to get it typed. . . . Sorry. I promise the chapters in future will be more descriptive, and thoughtfully written. :) Please read and review. **


	2. Chapter Two: Time to Say Goodbye

**Author Note: Sorry for taking so long to update guys! I've just been really busy! :S Anyway here it is. The Italics near the end mean they are singing. Please review and tell me what you think. **

**Chapter Two: Time to Say Goodbye**

Christine faltered as she lost hold of The Phantom's hand. They had been walking in the dark for a while now, and she still couldn't see a thing. She had always been afraid of the dark, even as a child. But now that fear seemed more frightening and more real than ever before, as she stumbled forward.

"Angel!" She cried out reaching for him frantically. "Where are you?"

She felt a warm hand gently grip her shoulder, "I am here Christine."

The hand slowly traveled down the length of her arm, until it reached her hand. "The exit is not far now," He said beginning to walk again. Christine closed her eyes, and let The Phantom lead her, as he had done not so long ago when she first laid eyes on him. The day her life had changed forever; the day she met her Angel of Music.

They continued to walk in silence for what seemed like an eternity to Christine before her Angel stopped in front of a wall. He pushed against the wall roughly and it fell backward to reveal a large black door.

The Phantom slowly opened the door, to the wintry cold air of Paris. He stepped outside into the open and then turned to help Christine out. After he made sure she was alright, he closed the catacomb entrance once more.

"Where are we?" She asked blinking hard, at all of the sudden light that invaded her vision.

"A few miles from the Opera house, He replied. "Come, there is a carriage waiting."

He resumed holding her hand, and lead the way through the outer streets. Christine stay huddled at his side, so close that they were almost touching. If the Phantom felt it he paid no attention to it.

"You know," Christine said softly. "You never told me your real name, my Angel."

The Phantom looked down at her for a long moment. "Erik."

"Erik," Christine repeated smiling up at him. "What a lovely name."

The Phantom looked at her again, "There is nothing lovely about me Christine."

There was such a note of despair, that she almost felt like crying when he spoke. He truly despised himself, and his deformed face.

She decided not to talk anymore for it seemed to upset him greatly. So the couple walked in silence, the snow falling all around them in delicate arcs.

They were about to turn a corner when Erik grabbed Christine and pulled her to him sharply, so that their bodies were pressed against each other. Christine had to muffle a squeal as he did so.

"Angel," She began to ask, when he pressed one of his fingers to her lips.

"Please Christine, do you trust me?" He was so close to her, she could feel his hot breath on her face. She looked into his eyes and couldn't help but love what she saw there.

"Yes, I trust you."

The Phantom nodded before he pulled her into a hug covering his face in the shoulder of her white wedding dress. She hug him back, her small arms encircling his larger frame.

Moments later two gendarmes, ran past them, shouting about Le` Phantom burning down the Opera House. Erik didn't lift his head from her shoulder until he was sure they were gone. When he did, Christine shivered, from the cold air she was now feeling.

"We have to move." He warned looking down the street the police had run down only minutes before. "They might come back."

Christine nodded, as the Phantom placed his hand on the small of her back and began to guide her through the small streets once more.

Christine was conflicted by all the emotions she was feeling as they passed a small bakery and head south towards the outskirts of town. She had promised her heart to Raoul the Vicomte de Chagny she had sworn her love and devotion to him; but then why was she so happy to be leaving with her Angel? It made no sense. Raoul had said so himself; she could not love both of them. But if that was true, then which one of them did she really love? Raoul, or her Angel of Music?

Erik turned sharply to the right and they stood in front of a small building, with mud colored bricks. Erik opened the door, and entered the building, pulling his music pupil behind him.

The inside was warm despite how small and unfurnished it was. It was like a rather large closet, with clothing hanging up on racks, along with all sorts of equipment sitting on shelves that lined the walls. The Phantom wasted no time in looking around. He went to the nearest hanger and pulled off the coat that it held. He shrugged it over his shoulders before he went to another rack and pulled off a shawl. He handed it to Christine, and she took it gratefully, for she was shivering with cold. He grabbed a bag that sat on the floor next to the side door, and started filling it with the items from the shelves.

"Where are we going to go?" Christine asked pulling the shawl up around her ears.

"I have an cottage just outside of Epernay where we can stay until things calm down." He replied putting more things into the bag.

"We aren't coming back are we?" Christine asked quietly a tear sliding down her pink cheeks.

The Phantom hesitantly cupped her face in his hands. "No," He answered truthfully looking straight into her large brown eyes.

Christine nodded, and removing his hands from her face began to help him pack. Once they were done Erik led the way back outside where he went around to the other side of the small building, where to Christine's surprise they found a stable, with midnight black mares grazing lazily at soft hay. The Phantom walked over to each in turn and offered words of loving praise before he bridled them, and got the carriage ready.

When he had finished he quickly helped Christine inside before he took his place as the driver, and yelled at the horses making them run, beating the falling snow as they left Paris behind them and head out into the open French countryside.

* * *

The windows of the carriage where covered by long black curtains, that made it almost completely dark inside. Christine would have fallen asleep if she hadn't had so much on her mind. She had shed some tears as they had left, but in truth she was too numb to feel much of anything.

She would miss the Opera House, and all the people who lived there. She would miss Madame Giry, and Meg. The only true family she had left. But most of all she would miss visiting her father. She would miss singing to him, and dreaming about the good times they had shared. She would miss saying goodbye.

She felt the carriage slowing down, and soon stop altogether. The door opened and blinding light filled the dark carriage. Christine blinked, as the Phantom offered her his hand. She took it and got out looking around.

She had to fight back the tears that threatened to leave her eyes. She couldn't believe where they were.

Erik the Angel of Music offered her his arm, and together they traveled through the carved stones, as the light of day began to fade.

Soon they arrived in front of a large grave and stopped. Christine no longer hid her tears as she fell to her knees in front of her fathers' grave. She cried, touching the stone that was now the only symbol her father had left.

She felt warm arms wrap around her waist comfortingly. And felt a small kiss being planted in her hair.

"_No more talk of darkness. Forget these wide eyed fears. I'm here. With you, beside you to guard you and to guide you."_ The Phantom whispered in her ear, his firm voice calming her.

"_All I want is freedom," _Christine sang back her hands holding onto his that now encased her waist. _"A world with no more night. And you always beside me to hold me and to hide me." _

Her Angel paused before he sang quietly. _"Then let us say good bye." _

"_Help me say good. . . . .goodbye." _Christine sang sobbing as she clung to him. _"Say you love me." _

"_You know I do." _He replied stroking hair tenderly. _"You know I do." _


	3. Chapter Three: Belle and the Beast

**Chapter Three: Belle and the Beast**

"Christine, Christine. . . ." The voice sang. "Christine. . ."

Christine knew that voice, better than she knew her own. It had always been with her, and she knew it always would be. She looked around her, trying to focus on the voice, to figure out where it was coming from.

She realized that she was in her secret room; the room back at the Opera House where she lit candles for her father every night; the place where she prayed for her loved ones. But more importantly' the place where she sang.

Christine was about to answer the voice, when someone opened the door and entered. Christine stared at the small figure that entered the room, tears fighting to come to her eyes.

A small girl dressed in grungy clothing slipped passed her, her cheeks smeared with grime and tears. The little girl collapsed in front of the candles crying into herself, constantly crying for her family.

Christine remembered this day all too well. It was the day when she had first met her Angel of Music. She stared at her younger self and cried along with her, knowing the loss she felt. For she had shared it everyday since then.

"Father," The girl cried bitterly. "Why have you left me alone?"

"But you are not alone Christine." A soothing voice interjected softly.

The young Christine looked around wildly, her big brown eyes wide with fear.

"Who's there?" She squeaked.

"I am the Angel of Music Christine." The voice replied.

"The Angel of Music?" The girl asked, calming down somewhat.

"Yes."

"Did father send you?" The little girl asked pleadingly.

The voice paused for a moment before he said, "Yes, Christine. Your father sent me, to teach you."

"Teach me what?"

"How to sing Christine," The voice said in a low purr.

The girl stood up, and looked around for the voice once more. "Where are you Angel?"

"You cannot see me, but I am here." The Angel of Music said. "You must see me with your heart. Can you do that?" He asked.

Christine only now noticed how sad he truly sounded. _Even then he was hiding himself. _She thought, continuing to watch her younger self interact with the man who had changed her life.

The girl nodded, and began to cry again.

"Don't cry dear heart," The voice begged tenderly. "Don't cry."

The girl cried even harder at that saying, "My father called me dear heart. . ."

"He loved you very much Christine," The Angel said. "You must never doubt that fact." '

The girl laid on the floor, curled in a small ball shape, fighting to keep herself warm.

The man began to sing to the small girl, his voice soft and consoling; making the girl sigh and begin to fall asleep.

"_**Try to remember the kind of September  
When life was slow and oh, so mellow.  
Try to remember the kind of September  
When grass was green and grain was yellow.  
Try to remember the kind of September  
When you were a tender and callow fellow.  
Try to remember, and if you remember,  
Then follow.**_

Try to remember when life was so tender  
That no one wept except the willow.  
Try to remember when life was so tender  
That dreams were kept beside your pillow.  
Try to remember when life was so tender  
That love was an ember about to billow.  
Try to remember, and if you remember, then follow.

Deep in December, it's nice to remember,  
Although you know the snow will follow.  
Deep in December, it's nice to remember,  
Without a hurt the heart is hollow.  
Deep in December, it's nice to remember,  
The fire of September that made us mellow.  
Deep in December, our hearts should remember. . . . . . And follow."

By the time he finished singing, the girl was asleep, her chest rising and falling gently. Christine smiled as she watched the Phantom enter the room from behind one of the walls, and lightly pick up the small child in his strong arms. He reentered the secret passageway behind the wall, and Christine followed him. The Phantom took the girl back to her room, and laid her on her bed, kissing her forehead. "Good night Christine." He whispered before turning on his heel and leaving.

Christine sat down on the edge of the bed, and watched her younger self sleep. She knew that the Phantom loved her. He had always been there. And he always would be.

* * *

"Christine," The Phantom said shaking her shoulder. "We have arrived."

Christine slowly opened her eyes, her brown orbs landing on the white mask that covered half of Erik's face. She took the hand he offered her, and got out of the carriage. For a brief moment the Phantoms' hand rested on her waist as he helped her down onto the ground. Christine blushed deeply at the feeling of contact, before he let go.

He offered her his arm, which she took hesitantly, before they started towards the cottage; their destination.

More snow covered the ground now, than it had when they had visited the Cemetery. The Epernay country side was beautiful, even in the dead of winter. Trees surround them on all sides, along with a frozen over stream.

Christine guessed it was around midnight, by the color of the sky, and how long they had been traveling in the carriage. But she couldn't be sure. Everything had been topsy turvy since she had agreed to go with the Phantom. A constant guessing game; and she was getting tired of it.

The Phantom knocked on the door firmly, before standing back. Christine could hear someone bustling inside before they screamed, "Just a minute!"

A dog bayed from inside, scratching at the door, and whining pitifully. Christine looked up just in time, to see traces of a smile crossing his lips.

The dog bayed again, louder this time, before the door opened a crack. A large green eye peeked out, looking them up and down.

"Master Erik?" The woman asked, surprised.

"Belle, would you open the door before we freeze?" He asked calmly, the smile completely forming.

The woman who's name was Belle opened the door and stood before them in all her glory. The woman looked like she was in her early forties, with shoulder length hair, the color of fire. She was quite an attractive woman, though she was rather plump and her curves were somewhat hard to see.

As soon Belle stepped back from the door, a large Bloodhound came barreling out of the house and jumped on the unsuspecting Christine, who gave loud huffing noise, as the huge dog knocked her into a near by snow bank.

The Phantom yelled a command Christine couldn't understand, and in moments the dog was off of her, panting up a storm, it's tongue lolling on the side of it's mouth.

"Christine are you alright?" The Phantom asked extending his hand to the now wet singer. "Did he hurt you?"

Christine shook her head, giggling. "He just surprised me, that's all."

"BEAST," Belle bellowed, from the doorway. "Get your no good arse in here!"

The dog whined but obeyed trudging back into the house sitting next to the red headed woman.

Belle looked at them anxiously, "You gonna come in?"

Christine stumbled into the warm house Erik firmly holding onto her so she wouldn't fall. Once they walked passed her, Belle shut the door.

"I didn't expect you for a few months yet," She said looking at the Phantom with her large green eyes. "I thought you still had business in Paris?"

"I did Belle," The Phantom replied. "But I finished faster than I thought I would."

"Well, we missed you." The stout woman said, before she turned to Christine. "And who is this now?"

"Belle Delacour, may I introduce Christine Daa`e." The Phantom said gesturing back and forth between the two women.

"Pleasure," Belle said extending her hand.

Christine looked at her hand for a moment, puzzled. What was she supposed to do now?

"I don't bite," the stout woman said chuckling good-naturedly.

Christine took hold of Belle's hand, and to her surprise the woman shook it up and down. After a moment she let go.

"Belle is from the Colonies," The Phantom explained to her. _Oh,_ Christine thought. _ That's what that was. _ She had heard about this particular gesture though it had never crossed her mind, to do it. It was called a 'handshake' if she was correct.

"If your from the Colonies, then why do you have a French name?" She asked curiously.

Belle smiled at her, "My mother was French."

Christine was about to ask another question when, the large dog jumped up on her again. Nuzzling her with it's long nose.

The Phantom gave the dog yet another command that Christine could not understand. The dog sat down heavily, and looked up at her with sad bloodshot eyes.

Christine smiled at the dog and began scratching him behind his large floppy ears. "And who is this?"

"This is Beast," Belle answered looking at the dog lovingly. "Master Erik's bloodhound."

Christine giggled as the dog licked her fingers. She had always wanted a dog, though living in the opera house, had made it impossible. Maybe living here wouldn't be so bad.

"You need to change out of those clothes Miss," Belle said suddenly. "Or you'll catch your death."

Christine nodded, and let herself be lead by the motherly woman. She looked back to see Erik kneeling down on the floor, stroking the dog. Beast licked his master, and looked at him with those sad eyes, as if to say; _I missed you. _

The Phantom smiled at his dog, "I missed you too dear friend."

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the Chapter. By the way the song The Phantom sang, was Try to Remember, from The Fantasticks.**


	4. Chapter Four: Who will Buy?

**The dark italics are Belle singing. And the light italics are Christine or someone besides the Phantom. Just a heads up. :) **

**Chapter Four: Who will Buy?**

Christine began taking her sopping wet clothing off, shivering as the cold air rushed over her skin. Belle had gone to fetch her something to wear, leaving her alone to get undressed. And for that the young singer was grateful. Although she really liked Belle, she didn't know her well enough to feel comfortable undressing in front of her.

The small knock came from the door followed by a woman's voice calling, "May I come in?"

"Yes," Christine said quickly covering herself the best she could with her arms.

Belle entered the room, and instantly threw her a towel. "Dry that hair." She ordered. Christine obeyed; vigorously rubbing the towel against her light brown hair. When she was done with her hair, she quickly covered her top half with the towel. Belle smiled knowingly, but made no comment, handing Christine a small bundle.

Christine opened it up expecting a dress of some sort, but was greeted by a black pair of pants, and a white blouse, with pearl buttons. The young singer looked up at the other woman puzzled. "Pants," she asked.

Belle nodded, "Pants."

Christine had only worn pants on a few occasions, and all of them, she had been given strange looks. Madame Giry had plainly told her when she had asked, that pants were improper for a woman to wear. And Christine had never really questioned it again; until now.

"Isn't it inappropriate for women to wear pants?" Christine asked hesitantly holding up the slim black slacks.

Belle's laughter rolled off of the walls pleasantly, her chest rising and falling with each new burst that issued from her. When she regained her speech she said, "No dear. At least not out here with just me and the Master for company." She let out another chuckle, smiling from ear to ear.

"Besides, after falling in a snow bank, those pants are gonna keep you much warmer, than any dress ever could. Trust me."

Christine blushed, embarrassed by how simple and ignorant she must have seemed to this woman. Of course no one would care; she was out in the French country side in a cottage, with her Angel, this woman Belle, and the rather sad looking Beast. Why would they care?

Belle patted her shoulder kindly, "Don't be embarrassed Christine, it was a question worth asking."

Christine blushed an even deeper red, "Thank you Belle."

Belle nodded to her turning around, "I'll be downstairs with Master Erik, come down when you're ready, so we can put some meat on them bones."

As soon as the woman shut the door behind her, Christine began scrambling to get dressed. She wouldn't keep them waiting for her, any longer than was absolutely necessary. She put one of her thin legs into the pants and struggled to get her foot to the bottom; and instantly fell over.

* * *

Belle chuckled to herself as she heard the loud crash from overhead. This was going to be an interesting winter, she thought with a smile. There wasn't going to be a dull moment, between Beast being stir-crazy to go outside, Erik's musical genius, and the naïve young thing upstairs.

Erik looked up from his dog's sad face to see Belle smiling as she lit the stove and began to boil a pot of water. Her cheeks flushed from the heat drifting up into her face.

"Do you find something amusing Belle?" He asked looking at her with intent eyes from where he sat at the large wooden table.

"Yes I do," Belle said beginning to chop up a random assortment of vegetables.

"Would you care to share your knowledge?" The Phantom inquired.

"Just thinking about the winter we've got ahead of us." She answered truthfully throwing the cut up vegetables into the boiling water.

Erik nodded without interest and began rubbing his dog again, his eyes staring straight ahead, as if he was seeing something that wasn't there.

Belle was used to this kind of behavior from him, and didn't take it personally. She continued to make her stew, humming as she did so. She worked merrily the tune she was humming becoming louder and more intricate by the minute, until it formed into a real song, and she began to sing.

"_**Who will buy my sweet red roses?  
Two blooms for a penny.  
Who will buy my sweet red roses?  
Two blooms for a penny. **_

_**Any milk today Mistress, any milk today?  
Ripe strawberries, ripe!  
Ripe strawberries, ripe!  
Any milk today, mistress?  
Ripe strawberries, ripe!**_

_**Who will buy my sweet red roses?**_  
_**Knives, knives to grind! Any knives to grind?**_

_**Knives, knives to grind!  
Any knives to grind?  
Who will buy?"**_

Belle hang onto the last note making it flow beautifully, and with care. The Phantom looked up at her a smile on his face. This was one of the reasons he had hired her to be his house keeper, he had admired her voice.

"Was there any point to that song Belle?" The Phantom asked.

"Yes sir," Belle said grinning widely. "It's a song that merchants used to sing on market day; all of them trying to sell their wares, wondering who would buy."

The Phantom was about to ask more, when another voice picked up the tune. "_Who will buy this wonderful morning?"_ Christine sang as she entered the kitchen a twinkle in her eyes as she continued, _"Such a sky you never did see."_

The Phantom was speechless, his Christine looked beautiful. The pair of simple pants, and the humble shirt did wonders. He watched wishing the inevitable would happen. A few moments later he beamed as the two women looked at each other and continued the song together.

"_**Who will buy my sweet red roses?" **_

"_Who will tie it up in a ribbon and put it in a box for me?" _

"_**Ripe strawberries, ripe."**_

"_So I could see it at my leisure whenever things go wrong._

_And I would keep it as a treasure, to last my whole life long." _

"_**Any milk today?" **_

"_Who will buy this wonderful feeling? _

_I'm so high, I swear I could fly."_

"_**Knives! Knives to grind!**_

_**Ripe strawberries, ripe!" **_

"_Me, oh my! I don't want to lose it! _

_So what am I to do, to keep the sky so blue?_

_There must be someone who will buy . . . ?" _

"_**Who will buy? Who will buy?"**_

"_**Who will buy? **__Who will buy?"_

"_There must be someone. . . __**Must be someone. . . **_Who will buy?_**" **_

The two women finished together, Christine higher, and Belle lower; their two voices ending the song perfectly. As they stopped there wasn't any sound in the kitchen, Belle looked at Christine and after a moment said, "You've got pipes my dear."

Christine blushed and thanked her, "You sing beautifully Belle."

The Phantom looked at his girls, and felt content. He had taken his Christine for himself, and Belle was here along with his faithful dog Beast. He couldn't ask for more.

"Very beautiful," The Phantom agreed looking at each of the women in turn, though his gaze lingered on his young pupil.

* * *

Raoul walked down the streets of Paris, the Gendarmes following in his wake, though they had been searching for hours. There was still no sigh of Christine, and it had been dark for quite some time now.

"Vicomte. . ." One of them said hesitantly.

"Yes," Raoul answered his eyes scanning the snowing buildings that surrounded them.

"It's getting late sir; and my men are nearly frozen."

"I don't care about your men," Raoul said dismissively walking past the small group of them huddled together, trying to steal some warmth.

The Gendarme who had spoken looked at him indignantly. "We can continue our search in the morning Vicomte, but we are leaving."

"Fine! You're useless to me anyway," Raoul yelled waving them away with his left hand.

The Captain looked at the stricken noble, but he didn't pity him. The young man had been nothing but rude, when they had done nothing but help him for hours on end. Ungrateful retch, the man thought, gesturing for his men to disband. As he walked past the blonde haired noble he whispered to him, "Did you ever think that she actually might have wanted to go with him?"

Raoul didn't make eye contact with the man, and with a sigh the Gendarme left to join his family after a long day in the cold Paris air.

Raoul stared at the snow, not feeling the cold around him, or the hunger building in his stomach, or the heartbroken cry that threatened to leave his lips. He had lost all feeling when Christine had given into that monster.

"_Christine. . . ." _He sang to the wind. _"Christine. . . Don't think that I don't care. Now every hope and every prayer rests on me now. I will be there, I will find you, I swear. I will not fail you again. . ."_

A few feet away he heard someone clapping. Raoul turned to see an old woman with a small hand cart. She had rested it in the snow, to clap with her withered old hands.

"A stunning performance," She said grinning at him with a crooked toothy smile.

Raoul said nothing, merely started to walk past her. The woman reached out and grabbed his forearm making him stop.

"I have handsome wares fit for a man of your talents deary. Care to take a peek?"

Raoul looked at her in disgust, and pushed passed her, "You have nothing that I desire old woman."

The woman yelled after him, "I'm not so sure of that love."

Raoul was going to ignore her when she continued, "I guess the pretty Miss Daae's ware bouts aren't worthy enough an item to interest you?"

Raoul turned back instantly, "You know where that monster took her?"

The woman smiled at him, "Of course I do deary; for a price."

"What do you want?" He asked annoyed.

"What everyone wants love," She answered. "Money and security. I'm willing to share information, for money. That is my trade. Will you buy?"

"How much," Raoul asked.

"Twenty gold." The woman said quietly.

Raoul pulled out the bag he had with him at all times. He placed the whole bag into her greedy hands. "Where is Christine?"

The woman stroked the bag lovingly, "I don't know exactly where, but the man talked about going to a cottage in the Epernay country side. That's all I know."

Raoul nodded to the old woman, and departed quickly. He had a lot to do, in a very little amount of time. He had to be prepared. Unlike last time; he had to win.

The woman watched the young noble leave, chuckling to herself. "There was someone, who _**did **_buy."

She hobbled along with her cart, humming to herself. Her life was looking up. Unlike the poor sod who took the pretty lady, she thought. _Poor man; poor dear. _

* * *

**I decided that it would be too easy if the story didn't have Raoul, so the Vicomte has joined the fray. I know, we are all Phantom fans here, but there has to be a problem, and without Raoul, I couldn't think of one. XP Please drop me a review, if you like the chap. Oh, and also the song Belle and Christine sang was Who will Buy from Oliver! The Musical. I suggest listening to it, it's catchy. **_  
_


	5. Chapter Five: Music of the Night

**Chapter Five: Music of the Night **

Christine lay wide awake in her bed, listening intently to the silence that surrounded her. Only moments before she had been fast asleep; but something had awoken her.

The young woman held her breath, waiting for the noise to repeat itself. A quiet snore rose up from beside her, but Christine paid no attention to it. Belle sighed peacefully and turned over so that her back was facing the young singer.

Since Christine's stay had been unexpected she had had to share a room and a bed with Belle. Though she didn't mind; she and Belle were already friends and they seemed to have an understanding. Not to mention she felt an odd feeling of comfort knowing that the housekeeper was nearby.

Christine slowly got out of the large bed, and crept to the door. She laid her ear to the surface and listened hard, trying to ignore the constant chain of snores coming from her sleeping partner. When she had listened for a while and still the sound had not reoccurred, she began to think she had been dreaming. Sullenly she started towards the bed, wondering if she had just imagined the noise.

But then, just as she was about to climb under the covers she heard it again. Christine tiptoed back to the door, and opened it; walking out into the dark hallway. The floor was freeze, and Christine stood on one foot, trading in-between them. She walked down the hallway, following the sound, and found that it was coming from downstairs.

Taking the stairs two at a time, she descended, and found herself in the drawing room; which was terrifying in the dark. She ran through the room quickly, and continued to follow the sounds, until she was standing in the kitchen.

_What on earth, _she thought looking around, curiously. The sound was coming from the counter, and she was sure that the noise was organ music.

She approached the wooden counter, and touched it gently, her fingers running along the length of its surface. Her finger slid into a small knothole, making her shudder. Were there mice in the house?

Christine gasped and jumped back frantically, as the counter opened to reveal a dimly lit passageway. She smiled as she realized that by touching the knothole, she had gained access to the secret tunnel.

She looked behind her once, making sure that Belle wasn't following her, before she entered the passageway, and made her way down into the darkness.

* * *

Erik couldn't sleep. He had tried for hours, and it had proven fruitless. His mind wouldn't slow down, or go to sleep; so neither could his body.

Finally at about three am in the morning, he had left his bedroom, and entered his work room, and begun his newest composition. It had entered his mind earlier that night, when he had been talking to Belle, but now it was fully formed, and wanting to be released.

He brought out paper and ink, and began scribbling down the notes as fast as he could. He had to write them all down before he lost them. When he had written five whole pages of notes, he was finally satisfied, and looked at them, scrutinizing them with a well trained eye. He silently walked over to his large organ, and sat down on the playing bench, setting the papers directly in front of him. His eyes focused on the notes, and began to play flawlessly.

He played for several moments, before he stopped in disgust. The melody wasn't right. He had added in too much, and now it was alien to him. Frustrated he went back to writing the notes again, but this time he hummed as he went along, making sure he wrote the right ones. He continued to write them, until it was perfect, before he began to play again. This time it flowed smoothly, and the tune was exactly the way he had heard it in his mind.

Erik closed his eyes as he played, smiling as the melody surged freely, as the music soared around him. For that one instant the Phantom forgot about everything: his deformity, the past that had brought him to this moment, and the murders he had committed. Everything left him, and he felt at peace; as he always did when he composed his arias. He was whole.

* * *

Christine walked into a spacious cavern that mirrored the catacombs of the Opera House. The Phantom had duplicated the rooms to look identical down to a small little pool that resided in a corner. But one thing was different, was the thing that held her fancy the most.

The Angel of Music sat at a large pipe organ, his long light blonde hair falling down his shoulders, in a tangled disarray. His head was tipped back, and his eyes were closed making him look like he was asleep; though Christine knew better. His hands moved like spiders would, smoothly and with purpose.

Christine had never seen him so at ease before. He had always been a strict teacher, and an even stricter composer. But now, he seemed like an entirely different person. He was so peaceful, and serene; that Christine never wanted him to stop.

Without a sound, the young singer, sat against the wall, and listened closing her eyes as well. His newest composition was beautiful, to say the least. And to her surprise, the tune was happy; instead of his usual melancholy sound. It rose and fall, picking up speed in places, and dropping lower into others. As Christine closed her eyes, she could see herself and her Angel running through a field of wildflowers, laughing and singing together. Unknowingly she began to quietly hum along with the melody, and swayed back and forth to the tempo. She could have stayed this way forever.

Erik opened his eyes at the new sound infiltrating his ears. He turned his head to the side, and out of the corner of his eye he saw his beloved Christine, sitting against the wall. He watched her bliss as she enjoyed his music. He began to hum along with her, and played with even more vigor. Christine eyes opened slowly and she smiled at him.

The Phantom felt his heartbreak as she did. He could almost feel the warmth travel through him. There was no other woman in the world that could compare. Not to his Christine.

* * *

Christine got up from her place on the cold floor, and joined her Angel at the organ. She stood next to him in awe, and put her hand on his shoulder. The Phantom sighed and closed his eyes again.

After a few more minutes, the song ended, and he looked up at her with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Will you sing for me, Christine?" He whispered touching her hand with his own.

"Always," Christine replied rubbing his hand.

The Phantom smiled up at her and began to play again, but this time they both sang together. She was his Angel of Music, and she had completed his aria. They were past the point of no return.

* * *

**From here on out, sparks will be flying between Erik and Christine. ^_^ I'm trying to make it realistic and take time for Christine to fall in love with The Phantom, but it's not working! I'm too much of a fan girl! Sorry!**


	6. Chapter Six: Problems

**Chapter Six: Problems **

Christine buried her face into the covers, sighing quietly. She was oblivious to the world around her; the soft warmth of the blankets wrapped around her comfortably.

Belle watched her for a moment before looking down at Beast.

"Do you want to do it?"

The dog looked up at the woman as if to say, _"No thanks Belle." _

"Thanks Beastel," Belle said the dogs full name before she bent and gently shook Christine. "Rise and shine my lovely."

Christine groaned and turned over. Belle lifted an eyebrow, before she took the covers in her hands. With one swift movement she yanked them off of the girl and onto the floor.

Christine whined, "Its cold."

Belle chuckled. "That it is. But it's time you got up. Master Erik would be very cross with me if you were still in bed when he got back."

Christine rolled over to look at the large motherly woman. Today her bright red hair was pulled up into a loose bun with wisps hanging at the nape of her neck. Her green eyes were bright and she seemed amused.

"Why would Erik be angry with you?" Christine asked groggily.

Belle sat down on the edge of the bed, "He wanted you up before mid-day so that you would be able to sleep tonight. He said you stayed up late last night."

Christine blushed as she remembered Erik sitting at his organ, that look of bliss on his face. She quickly brought herself back to reality.

"What time is it now?"

"'bout eleven, give or take a few minutes." Belle said standing up again. "You ready to get up dear?"

Christine nodded and got out of the bed. After she had put on the blouse and pants from the night before she looked around. Erik must have brought her back up to Belle's room when she had fallen asleep.

Belle waited at the door patiently for the younger girl, before they left the small room together and entered the kitchen.

Christine watched as the housekeeper took out ingredients for pancakes. Christine hadn't cooked anything in years. At the Opera House meals had been made in bulk for everyone who lived there. Besides, Madame Giry had forbidden any of the dancers near the Kitchens. She was afraid that the temptation might have been too much for them.

"Can I. . ." Christine began, but paused and looked down.

Belle looked up from what she was doing, "Yes love?"

Christine looked up and met Belle's warm gaze, and continued shyly, "Can I help you?"

Belle gestured towards the mixing bowl, "Why not."

Christine grinned, and came over anxiously. The last time she had baked anything was when she was a little girl and her mother was still alive.

Christine took a deep breath and pushed all thoughts of the past away. Even though her parents were gone, she still felt pain from their absence. She purposefully kept all of her memories of them at bay. She wouldn't start now.

Belle studied Christine for a moment. She saw sadness in her eyes for a moment before the girl put her happy face back on. The woman had lived long enough to know when to leave things alone, so she kept her thoughts to herself, and pretended not to have noticed.

"Here sweet, you come and stir for me."

Christine smiled and took the large spoon from Belle. She loved the pet names the red haired woman called her; and she felt safe when she was around her.

"Here," Belle said interrupting her thoughts. "If you turn the bowl while you're stirring it will be easier."

Christine moved the bowl around in a circle as she stirred the batter. This was fun!

Belle watched the young singer happily. She had always wanted a family of her own; and now it seemed she had gotten one: a large drooling dog, a moody man, and a beautiful young girl. _I couldn't have asked for more, _she thought with a small smile.

* * *

Erik dismounted from Aria, his black, four year old mare, and tied her to a hitching post. He patted her nose, before he entered the Center.

The Center was a two story building with no windows, and two doors. In earlier days it had housed prisoners from all over France. But now it was a court, and government head quarters. Gendarmes and Detectives from all the surrounding towns reported here, and got their bounties. It was the ideal place to receive news from Paris.

The Phantom wore a long black cloak with his hood pulled up over his face. He knew this building well and walked down two corridors before he got to his destination. He entered without knocking, going over to stand by the small fireplace.

Gendarme Balkor looked up from his paperwork, though he was not surprised. The Phantom had been showing up in his office for years, and they were old acquaintances.

"Erik," he said respectfully waiting for the other man to speak.

"Balkor," Erik greeted before he continued, "Do you have what I asked you for?"

The man nodded, and pointed to the mantle next to the Phantom. "Everything you asked for is there."

Erik picked up a small envelop, and without opening it, pocketed it. "Thank you."

Balkor got up from where he sat, and walked over to stand next to the Phantom, gazing into the crackling fire.

"Don't be so quick to thank me Erik. I'm afraid this service doesn't come without a price."

Erik stiffened, but remained silent. After a minute of this Balkor looked up at him. He held out another envelop to him, "I don't care how you do it. Just make sure you bring him back alive."

Erik opened the small package, and skimmed over the papers. He looked up amused, "Another bounty?"

"Yes," Balkor admitted. "You give me results."

Erik nodded curtly, "Fine."

Without another word, he left, and Balkor went back to his paper work.

* * *

Erik walked out into the street and strolled down the length of the main street. It was a beautiful winter day. It had stopped snowing, and there was little to no ice left. The sun was shining in such a way that the snow glittered and was almost blinding. Erik loved the winter months. It grew dark out early, and the world seemed as if it was asleep. He almost felt like he fit in. Almost.

Erik was about to enter the old bookstore when he saw it. A bright white horse, with a handsome saddlebag.

The Phantom looked more closely at the horse, and faintly recalled this particular stallion. He thought for a moment before it clicked. This was the accursed horse that the Vicomte De Chagny had been ridding, when he had taken Christine away, in the cemetery.

His head snapped up. The horse being here could only mean one thing: the buffoon had found them.

Erik walked briskly back to where Aria stood. He mounted her quickly and immediately set her at a gallop. He didn't look back to see if he was being followed. He didn't have time.

He had to get back to Christine before that damnable Vicomte took her away again. He couldn't loose her again; or this time it would kill him.

* * *

_Next chapter is going to be the moment you have all been waiting for. And don't worry; in this story the Phantom wins, and gets the girl. :D Thanks for the reviews guys! You flatter me, truly. -Lyn. _


	7. Chapter Seven: Prelude to a Man and Wife

**Chapter Seven: Prelude to a Man and Wife**

"Please don't go to any trouble Belle." Christine said timidly, following the red haired woman out of the kitchen where they had just finished having their late breakfast.

"It's no trouble dear; it's my job. Master Erik pays me well to keep his home and belongings in order." Belle paused for a moment before she added, "And besides, what would he think if his beautiful guest wasn't taken care of properly?" Belle smiled as the younger girl blushed.

"You are too kind Belle," Christine replied, blushing even harder. "But I can't let you wait on me. It wouldn't be right."

The plump woman nodded to her, "I understand sweet, and I would let you take care of yourself. But I promised my Master that I would assist you, whenever you needed it."

Christine couldn't help but smile at her. "Alright Belle, but I get to help."

Belle shrugged indifferently, "I guess that's fair. But the moment it's too much for you, you stop an' let me take over. Agreed?"

Christine nodded in agreement. She couldn't wait to see where the well was.

Belle smiled, and walked to the front door, where she shouldered her gray shawl. Christine, following her lead, put on the nearest coat. It was a black, and obviously made for a man. Christine nearly giggled when she realized that the coat came down clear to her calves. _How silly I must look in Erik's coat;_ she thought, snuggling into the warmth that now encased her.

"Ready duckling," Belle asked, resting her large hand on the door knob.

"I'm ready," Christine answered happily.

Belle opened the door, and a cold wind came blowing in, and Christine was thankful for the coat.

Though the snow fall had stopped a long time ago, it was still very cold out. Belle walked briskly, her eyes roaming the white ground in front of her. Christine eagerly followed her, outside towards the side of the house.

After a moment the red haired housekeeper stopped, and the young singer almost bumped into her.

"Why are we stopping?" Christine asked, her brown eyes looking around for any sign of a well.

Belle gestured towards the cottages' wall. Christine looked in wonder at the sight that met her.

Embedded within the wall surface was a long metal lever with a handle that jutted out a few feet. It was very strange to the eyes after looking down at the snow for a couple of moments. And Christine was no exception. She had seen made metal contraptions in her life at the Opera Populare, but this object was foreign to her.

"What is it?"

"That is one of Master Erik's contraptions dear." Belle answered. "It heats the water in an underground well, and makes it possible for use to bathe in the winter without freezing."

"How does it work?" Christine asked in awe.

"You pull out the lever there, and count to ten. And then you push it back in and turn it counterclockwise."

Christine made a mental note to herself to ask Erik about the details later. _Madame Giry was right; _she thought astonishment. _He is a genius, and an inventor. _

Before Christine could ask any more questions Belle asked abruptly, "Want to try?"

"Oh, yes, please."

Belle motioned for her to grab the lever in her hands. Once Christine had, Belle further instructed her, what she needed to do.

"Pull it out from the wall towards you."

Christine did, which was much harder than it looked, and waited for the next direction.

"Now, count to ten, and then push it back in. Then you're gonna need to turn it counterclockwise." Belle said from where she was standing, a couple feet away.

Christine counted in her mind, _1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. _Then she pushed it back in and began to turn it. But turning it was even harder than pulling it. Every inch she turned it took her pushing it as hard as she could.

After another minute of this, Christine heard something click and Belle grinned.

"It's hard isn't duckling?"

"Indeed," Christine agreed, panting slightly, which made her breath come out in a foggy cloud.

Belle couldn't help but laugh again, "Well, now that we've accomplished what we set out to do, how bout we head inside before we turn into human icicles hmm?"

"Please," Christine huffed, turning around to follow the older woman back inside that warm cottage.

Once they were inside and had taken their coats off, Belle ushered Christine into the kitchen. She poured a strange liquid that had been heating in a kettle above the stove into a mug and handed it to the girl.

"Here love," she said kindly before pouring herself a mug as well and sitting down as well.

Christine took a sip, and felt her tongue begin to burn. She gulped it quickly, and set the mug down. Never before had she tasted anything like it. It was sweet, and yet it burned with an intensity that was foreign to her. And even though it had hurt her tongue, she was dying to get more in her mouth.

"What is this?"

Belle sipped from her mug, "Its hot chocolate; with a couple special ingredients, of course."

Christine blew softly into the dark brown drink, and tried again. But it still burned taste buds.

"Special ingredients," Christine replied quietly, forcing herself to drink some more.

"Yes," Belle took another long drink from her cup. "Two such ingredients being, chili pepper, and softened sugar to add more flavor to it."

That explained the burning, and without another thought, Christine tipped back the mug, and finished off her drink. "Thank you Belle."

"You're welcome dear," Belle said finishing her drink as well, and standing up. "Now that I've gotten you warmed up, it's bath time."

"But we still have to take the water up, and pour it into the tub." Christine said, walking to the foot of the staircase.

"I know. But I'll be the one pour while you get undressed."

"But I was going to help you," Christine interjected with a slight frown.

Belle smiled kindly at the girl. "Yes you were. But Master Erik will be home soon, and I promised him I would have you awake and dressed."

"Are you sure you don't need help Belle," Christine asked again as she began to climb the stairs.

"I'm sure, duckling. Go get ready for your bath."

Christine smiled at the older woman, and left to prepare for her bath.

* * *

The Phantom had been riding hard for nearly an hour now, and Aria was getting tired.

"Come Aria," Erik coaxed gently, spurring the horse onward. "We are almost there."

The black mare complied, sensing that her master was anxious. Aria's pace quickened and her breathing became even more labored. She was pushing herself to her limit, for _him. _

"Good girl," Erik whispered gratefully in her ear, patting her side with one of his gloved hands. "Thank you."

* * *

Belle poured the last bucket of hot water into the large washtub, and chuckled as Christine dunked her head underneath the soapy water.

When she resurfaced, Christine smiled at the laughing Belle, and wiped the water out of her eyes.

"The water is perfectly warm," the girl exclaimed happily. "It feels wonderful!"

"I'm glad duckling," Belle said letting out another low chuckle. She then placed a big white towel next to where Christine's head rested.

"I'll leave you to your bathing now. Call if you need anything."

Christine relaxed, and the red headed woman left the bathroom. And for the first time since Christine had agreed to leave with the Phantom, she stopped thinking, and merely was at ease.

The young singer closed her eyes and paid attention to her body. She felt the hot water sooth her achy arms and legs, before it reached her back and truly began to work its wonders.

Christine moaned aloud. It felt so good. . . .

Christine felt herself slipping into a peaceful stupor; and for once she didn't fight it. And silently Christine Daae felt content.

* * *

"Belle," Erik called, before he had even dismounted Aria. "Belle!"

The Phantom ran towards the small cottage, praying that he wasn't too late. Had he run out of time? He needed to get Christine and leave immediately, before the accursed Vicomte arrived.

Erik opened the large wooden door and called to his housekeeper again. "Belle answer me!"

"In here Master Erik," the plump woman called back after a moment.

Erik followed her voice into the drawing room where he found Belle crocheting a beautiful white shawl, with little light blue flowers on the edges.

If the situation hadn't been so dire Erik would have complimented her on her extraordinary work. But now wasn't the time for such things. Now was the time for action.

"Belle, we must leave."

Belle didn't look startled, but nodded. "I figured we'd have to sooner or later." Standing from where she had been seated she asked, "What do we need?"

"A day's provisions, and the silver; nothing more," the Phantom answered quickly. "Make haste."

Without another word, Belle Delacour was out of sight, heading upstairs.

The Phantom, wasting no time, strode into the kitchen and pressed the secret knothole. When the counter slid open Erik rushed down the passageway and into his underground workroom.

He had some things settle before they departed. He began to grab all his papers and music sheets, and stuff them into a saddlebag he had brought inside with him. After he had finished, he was about to leave when he remembered the two envelops in his inner pocket. One, a bounty for a criminal, with his life history and the details of the crime he had committed, and the other. The other envelop, that held his future; and Christine's."

He slowly brought the letters out and looked at them. The Phantom put the bounty down, and opened the other carefully.

Erik's gaze shifted over the marriage certificate, making sure that every detail was perfect. And with satisfaction he replaced the document back into its paper covering.

Soon, very soon, no one would be able to take his beloved Christine from him. Soon, she would truly be his.

* * *

Raoul remounted his white stallion. He had been successful in his tracking. The Creature owned a Cottage on the outskirts of town, somewhere in the forest.

It was only a matter of time before he was reunited with Christine. And every second away from her was precious to him. He had to find her.

"Hyaaaa!" he yelled, setting his horse into a long gallop.

"_Hold on Christine! Wait for me," _the Vicomte thought fiercely, as he raced through the trees that now surrounded him. _"Don't give in to that Monster!" _

* * *

_I know I left you hanging, but that's what I do best. xD Sorry guys! _

_Please let me know your thoughts and feelings on this chapter, and the story in general. I've been talking to Erik lately, and we have decided on a couple of ways this story could go from this point. But I have some doubts on Raoul and what he might or might not do. I dunno though. What do you think? _

_-Lyn  
_


	8. Chapter Eight: You are Music

**Chapter Eight: You are Music **

* * *

Erik had finished packing his provisions, and was currently waiting outside with the horses. He was examining his favorite mare, Aria. She had really pushed herself earlier to get to the cottage in time, and she was tired.

The man groomed the beautiful horse, and hummed a melody to her. Aria snuffled happily, and nudged him with her nose gratefully. His hands were as gentle as a spring breeze.

Erik studied his horse for a moment, "Will you be able to make another trip today my sweet Aria? Or are you too weary?"

Aria gave her master a sidelong look. And for the millionth time, Erik wished she could answer him, with words.

"I shouldn't push you. . ." He thought aloud.

The midnight black mare snorted and flicked her ears, in an almost indignant fashion. As if to say, _"Erik, you can't leave me!"_

Erik shook his head, "You're going to kill yourself."

The horse nudged him again, and it seemed as if she was smiling.

Erik began to groom her once more, but he couldn't refrain from singing. And soon his deep smooth baritone voice filled the stables, and the world seemed to stop for just a moment. As if Mother Earth was listening to him.

"_**Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Fa Mi**_

_**Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Mi Do" **_

"_Move the Do,"_ Erik thought to himself as he sang through the Solfege Scale.

**_"Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Fa Mi _**

**_Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Mi Do. . ." _**

Erik paused for a moment before he began the actual song. His smooth voice rose and fell over the notes, as if he had been born only to sing them.

_**"Oh, you are music, beautiful music **_

_**And you are light to me. . . **_

_**Oh, you are music Moonbeams of music **_

_**and you are light to me. . ." **_

Erik stopped singing, and closed his eyes painfully. He wanted to shut out the memories of that song, but just as easily as the melody had come to him, so did the painful recollection of the songs past.

* * *

"_This face which earned a fathers fear and loathing. A mask, my first unfeeling scrap of clothing. Pity comes too late, turn around and face your fate . . . an eternity of this before your eyes. Join me . . . Make the Music of the Night." _

"_If I am guilty, I'll be guilty of that Innocence, whose name is love. _ _And never, no you'll never be, for anyone except for me!_ _I damn you when I love you! And I love you, and I damn you my, Christine!"  
_

* * *

Erik cowered in the corner of the kitchen, covering his ears with his hands, and praying that the yelling would stop. Tears rolled down his sunken in cheeks, and made them even blotchier than before, making the man yell even louder than before.

"So the Monster is gonna cry, eh?" The man bellowed as he bent down next to the child, of four. "You should cry, for no one will ever love you!"

"_Momma loves me," _Erik reminded himself. _"Momma loves me." _

"What? Have you nothing to say, little terror?" The man growled at the child, and Erik shuddered against the wall.

Erik kept quiet. He knew that if he said anything, the man would only hurt him more.

"Speak devil!" the man crowed, his eyes going wild. "Or I'll make you!"

"Momma loves me," Erik said aloud, more for himself than for anyone. "No matter what, she loves me."

The man's smile withered into pure disgust. "You're mother was a fool for not drowning you at birth. She only says she loves you because she feels bad that you're her bastard."

Erik shook his head, letting out a small moan. "No. . . . Momma loves me."

The man brought back his hand and slapped the little boy, sending his head reeling to the side. Erik didn't make a sound, as his head came into impact with the wall. He only thought of his mother. His beautiful mother, Alouette Le Temps, she would come back soon. She would save him.

The man stood quickly and exited the small kitchen, leaving Erik alone. The little boy was just about to stand up, when the huge man came back. He held something in his hand that Erik had never seen before, and the little boy stared at it with wide eyes.

"Look at this," the man commanded. Erik hesitantly took the object, and looked down at it. Immediately he dropped it, and screamed.

Erik couldn't describe what he had seen. It was too horrible, and frightening. It was human, but then . . . it wasn't. The face was all wrong.

The man laughed as the little boy screamed, at his own reflection.

"I know. It's hideous isn't it? Now, upon seeing that, do you really think anyone could love you?"

Erik looked up at him, his eyes red from crying. "What do you mean?"

"That was you, you stupid beast!" The man yelled shaking his head. "That was your demonic face in the glass!"

"_That was . . . me?" _Erik closed his eyes, and felt his heart break. If he looked like that, his mother couldn't really love him. She had lied to him.

Erik stood up quickly, and ran out of the house, not seeing where he was going. He didn't care anymore. Not if his mother didn't love him.

The little boy hadn't made it far, when he crashed into someone, and fell to the ground in a heap.

"Sweetheart?" Erik looked up to see his mother. She was beautiful, with her long dark hair, and light green eyes. But right now, she looked tired and worried.

"You lied," the little boy cried holding his head in his hands. "You told me I was beautiful! But I'm a monster!"

The woman knelt down by her son, and cradled him. "I never lied to you Erik."

"I saw myself in the glass," the little boy said sorrowfully. "I am ugly."

Alouette had begun to cry with her son, "You are beautiful to me, Erik. I don't care what others may say. You are my Music, and my life."

The little boy looked up at the beautiful woman. "But momma . . . you love music more than anything. How can _**I be**_ your music as well?"

The woman placed her hand over her chest. "Music comes from the heart sweetheart. And that is where I keep my love for you."

"So we are the same? Music and I?" Erik asked, smiling through hopefully through his tears.

"Yes my love. You are the same." Alouette smiled down at her son, and hugged him gently, singing him a lullaby in her beautiful high soprano.

"_Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Fa Mi  
Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Mi Do" _

Alouette kissed his forehead tenderly, "Now you."

Erik repeated the scale back to her.

"_**Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Fa Mi  
Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Mi Do" **_

Alouette smiled and sang the next phrase.

"This time move the Do Erik,_  
Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Fa Mi  
Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Mi Do"_

Erik obeyed and again repeated his mother. _  
__**"Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Fa Mi  
Do Re Mi Fa Sol..." **_

Alouette joined her son, and finished the phrase with him; her sweet voice intertwining with his in the utmost care.  
_**"Fa Re, Mi Do"  
**_

Then Alouette sang the rest by herself, cradling her son. Her Music. She instructed him every once in a while, teaching him the proper etiquette of singing. Helping him learn as she sang.

_"Oh, you are music_  
_Beautiful music_  
_And you are light to me_

_Oh, you are music_  
_Moonbeams of music_  
_And you are light to me_

_Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Fa Mi_

Take a breath on one,  
And after three, at this part Erik.

_Do Re Mi Fa Sol, Fa Re, Fa Mi_

_Remember, Breathing first on one,_  
_And after three_

_Breathing in the air_  
_And ebb and flow_  
_Breathing taking care_  
_Fa Re, Mi Do_

_Breathing in the air from deep below  
Ready for the run, from Do to Do_

_You are music_  
_Beautiful music_  
_And you are light to me_

_Oh, you are music_  
_Sun burst of music_  
_And you are light to me. . ."_

As Alouette sang, Erik knew that she loved him. And for that one moment he was as perfect, as all the other children.

For in that one moment, he saw a true Angel of Music in his mother.

* * *

_Hey guys, long time no update. ^^" Sorry bout that. _  
_Anyway this was a chapter I had to write. I bawled the entire time writing it, and just loved it to death! I love Erik so much! _

_When I first began writing this story, I thought it was only based on the Book and ALW musical the Phantom of the Opera. But recently I found a new version, that speaks more of Erik's childhood. So this story is based on, **"Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera," "The Original Novel," and "Maury and Yeston's Phantom." **If you haven't heard of the last one, I suggest you look it up. It is amazing! _

_The lyrics used in this chapter were from the song, **"You are Music" **from ** Phantom, the musical.** _

_Anyway I hope you liked it guys! Please drop me a review. I luff em! -Lyn Harkeran._


	9. Chapter Nine: Say you Love me

**Chapter Nine: Say you Love me**

* * *

"_My true love. . . Lost in a shadow play, I will find a way . . . Through fear and doubt, I will find you out. _

_Let me know your face. . . Let me know you, now. " -Christine Daae_

* * *

Erik waited impatiently. What was taking Belle so long?

He had been waiting out in the snow for almost ten minutes now, and every minute they spent at the cottage was another minute wasted. For the Vicomte De Chagny drew nearer with each second.

The Phantom patted Aria one last time, "Stay my friend. I'll be back soon."

When the horse obeyed him, Erik ran back towards the house. Time was of the essence. They needed to leave, now!

* * *

Christine felt the warm water as it wrapped around her delicate frame. It felt so perfect against her skin.

The young girl would have stayed mobile in her wonderful bathwater if a hand hadn't gently grabbed her wrist and squeezed it in a gentle, deliberate way. Christine's eyes popped open, and she yelped in surprise.

Belle stared down at her with green anxious eyes. "Sorry duckling, I didn't mean to startle you."

Christine took a deep breath, _Calm down Christine. . . It's just Belle, checking on you._

"It's alright Belle. Did you need something?"

"I'm afraid so, dear." Belle brought Christine's white towel up and held it open for her. "We must leave immediately."

The girl just sat for a moment, before she asked, "But why?"

Belle's brow furrowed. "Master Erik told me to get you ready to leave as quickly as possible. He didn't tell me why, but he looked as if the very devil was chasing after 'im."

_What would scare him so badly? _Christine wondered, as she stood from her bath and let the stout woman wrap the towel around her.

"So he didn't mention anything," Christine pressed as Belle opened the bathroom door, and led her into their shared bedroom to help her dress.

"Not a word." Belle shrugged. "But that's Master Erik for you; always very secretive, and private in his affairs."

"But-" Christine began with a furrowed brow when Belle interrupted her.

"I'm sorry duckling, truly I am. But we don't have time to discuss it. Master Erik is waiting for us."

Christine reluctantly began to dry herself the best she could without removing the towel from her body, while Belle rummaged in the wardrobe. The plump woman laid the clothes she had picked on the bed, and briskly walked towards the door. As she reached it she turned back and addressed the girl.

"I have to grab some things for the trip, and get Beast ready. Can you manage by yourself Christine?"

Christine nodded, "Yes, thank you."

Belle nodded with a quick smile. "I'll be back in a minute love."

As the door closed Christine breathed a sigh of relief. She could fully dry herself off now, without anyone's prying eyes watching her.

The woman slowly let the towel swing from her body, and began to dry her wet hair. The cold air made goose bumps rise on her still damp skin, and she shivered, though it wasn't an unpleasant feeling.

Closing her eyes, the singer ran the white fabric across her body with purpose. When she was satisfied she turned to put the towel on the bed. As she laid it down, the door opened.

"Belle I told you to make haste! What are you-" the deep baritone voice instantly cut off, and a deafening silence followed. Christine stood in shock, unable to think, to cover herself.

The man, who had made her song take wing, stood in the doorway, his eyes wide with surprise at the sight that met him, before they instinctively traveled lower.

Christine blushed madly, but still didn't cover herself up. Her arms seemed to be made of lead, and were unmovable.

When Erik's eyes moved back up to hers', Christine couldn't help gasp. The look in his eyes was so animalistic and passionate, that the woman felt herself falter back a step.

Erik's eyes' instantly turned soft, "Christine. . . Please. . . Don't fear me. . ."

At his words the singer felt her heart break and she felt ashamed at her actions. Her Angel of Music had never hurt her, and she knew he never would. He was the one absolute in her life.

Christine felt tears prickling in her eyes. The love she felt for Erik wasn't like the love she had felt for Raoul. It went far deeper, and seemed to mean more to her. And with that realization, she felt the last of her resolve disappear, as she willed her legs to move her forward.

As she came within a foot of her Angel, Christine stopped and reached her hand out hesitantly. Erik meeting her eyes reached out his own hand and joined their fingertips.

"Do you love me, Erik . . .?" Christine whispered, praying that his answer would match her own.

Erik leaned forward so that their noses' almost touched. "You know I do. . . I always have."

Christine Daae smiled up at him. "Then that makes two of us."

Erik's confusion clearly showed, but before he could question her, Christine cleared the space between them, and planted her lips on his. Though Erik's mask slightly covered his lips, Christine continued to kiss him without hesitation.

Erik's hands slowly snaked to Christine's waist, and he kissed her back. Oh, how he had dreamed of this moment, when his Christine would love him back without doubt. His joy was endless.

As Christine pulled away from the kiss, she saw Erik's beautiful green eyes were filled with tears. Together the two cried for the pure beauty of the moment. For the peace they felt.

After a moment more of looking into her eyes, Erik brought her mouth back to his, and pulled her to him. Christine moaned, as their bodies smashed together.

"I love you Christine," Erik said breathlessly, as he gazed down at her naked body, his eyes aglow with desire.

"I love you too. . . Erik."

* * *

**_Allo there! I hope you liked the chap, cause as a fangirl, I sure did. loL! xP_**

**_Also I'm debating wither or not, I should change the rating of this fic to M so we can have some deeper love scenes. . . . I dunno. What do you guys think? Please leave a review and let me know. _**

**_Also, Happy Holidays guys! I hope they are memorable for you! Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year! I freaking love you all! _**

**_~Lyn Harkeran. _**


	10. Chapter Ten: Now and Forever

**Author's Note: **Bold Italics are Erik, and Regular Italics are Christine. Just a heads up! :D

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Now and Forever**

* * *

Erik broke the kiss, though it took every ounce of willpower he possessed. He could do this. . . Not now.

Christine opened her soft brown eyes, "What's wrong, Angel?"

"Nothing is wrong," Erik answered quickly, brushing her cheek with his gloved fingers.

"Then why. . ." Christine began, but Erik interrupted her with an upraise hand.

"If we continue, I won't be able to control myself, Christine."

Christine smiled shyly, "But I don't want you to stop."

Erik thought he would explode from joy. For so long he had dreamed of this, and now he had to push her away. It was maddening!

"I can't . . . I _**won't**_ have you until our wedding night." Erik whispered closing his eyes tight. He knew that if he looked at her, he would change his mind.

Christine eyes widened, "Wedding Night?"

Erik had wanted to wait for the perfect moment to ask her, but circumstance had made him unprepared, so he slowly knelt down before the woman who had captured his heart.

Though she still wore no clothing, she didn't seem to be cold; quite the contrary. Her whole body was flushed a bright pink, and her eyes shone with tears as she realized what he planned to do.

"Christine Daae," Erik began his voice shaky and hesitant. "Will you . . . Will you."

"Erik," Christine prompted quietly.

Erik stammered for another minute before he stopped in anguish. How could he be so scared?

"Christine," Erik said, in a sad voice. "I can't say it."

Christine slowly lowered herself down, beside him, and took his hands in her own. "Sing it to me."

Erik looked at her thoughtfully, "Pardon?"

Christine smiled kindly, "If you can't say it. _Sing_ it."

Erik thought for a moment, for the right notes and lyrics, and then he began to sing in his deep baritone. As he sang he brought a small ring out from his chest pocket, and held it out to Christine.

* * *

"_**One perfect pebble -Just one humble **__**stone**__**.**_  
_**But oh, what a stone can do - It means that I have one **__**love**__** forever  
And one love alone  
Now and Forever with you."**_

* * *

Erik sang with all his heart. He wanted his Christine to know how much she meant to him, and how much he loved her.

* * *

"_**Now and forever -As sure as the snow  
As long as our music soars  
I'll love you in a way that- I'll never begin to outgrow  
I'll now and forever be yours."**_

* * *

As he softly held the last note, the Phantom gently reached for Christine's hand, and slid the beautiful blue gemstone onto her ring finger. He looked into her eyes with all the hope and sadness of the world, and asked her, "Will you be my wife, Christine?"

Christine was silent, tears pouring from her eyes as she looked down at the wedding ring. She knew she had to give him an answer, so she took a deep calming breath, and singing as one would sing a lullaby, she met his question with a song.

* * *

"_Somehow I can see, just exactly how I'd be- _

_If I loved you, Time and again I would try to say- All that I'd want you to know. _

_If I loved you, words wouldn't come in an easy way. Round in circles I'd go. _

_Longing to tell you- But afraid and shy. . . I'd let my golden chances- pass . . . me . . . by._

_Soon you'd leave me; off you would go- in the midst of day. Never, never to know . . . How I loved you. . . Oh, how I loved you."_

* * *

As she stopped singing, she whispered on simple word.

"Yes."

A sob broke from Erik the second the word had escaped her lips. He crumpled the full way to the ground, and cried. His Christine loved him! And she had agreed to be his!

Christine cradled him, against her chest, stroking his back soothingly; though she herself was crying.

Erik straightened up and Christine laid her hand against his cheek. And after a moment she did something he couldn't comprehend. With purpose, the woman took the Phantoms' mask in her small hands and gently pulled it off. At first Erik cringed away, but Christine was firm, and turned his head so their eyes met.

She kept eye contact as she leaned forward and laid small butterfly-like kisses on his deformed face. Erik closed his eyes and felt the warmth of her lips. No one had ever kissed him before, or loved him as Christine did now. And he never wanted her to stop.

* * *

**The kiddies are to be hitched! _ AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! *dances wildly* YESSSS~! **

**Anyway the songs I used are, **"Now and Forever," by Barry Manilow. And, "If I loved you," from Carousel.

**Still debating on changing the rating to M. We shall see. . . . **

**~Lyn Harkeran.**


	11. Chapter Eleven: Taking Flight

**Author's Note: **This chapter has** M rated Content! **I am currently changing the rating to M, but I wanted to warn yall before you started reading! ;D AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! ENJOY!

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Taking Flight **

* * *

Christine continued to leave a faint trail of butterfly kisses across the Phantoms' distorted face, and Erik leaned into her soft lips, feeling happier than he had ever felt before. Christine had agreed to be his, and with that promise his world that had always been dark, was now brighter than the sun.

As her lips traveled down his deformed face, Erik couldn't help but slightly moan as she kissed a tender spot. The young woman lifted her brown eyes to his anxiously, "Did I hurt you?"

Erik shook his head, not trusting his voice. No she hadn't hurt him. . . Quite the contrary.

Christine smiled shyly as she returned her lips to his face. "You're so soft," she said sweetly, her breathing low and calm as she nuzzled him.

The Phantom brought his hands up and cupped hers to his face, "Christine . . . My Christine."

The woman crooned back with a grin, "My Angel . . . My Precious Angel . . . My Erik . . ."

Erik felt his heart burst in his chest. Her name on his lips was overwhelming.

With a soaring spirit, Erik planted his lips on Christine's' and let his tongue lap at her lower lip, begging for entrance. The kiss took her by surprise, but when she recovered from the initial shock, the young singer kissed him back just as passionately if not more so.

"_Stop Erik," _The Phantom warned himself sternly. _"Stop before you go too far. . . She's so innocent and young. . . Wait. . ." _ But instead of listening to his own words of wisdom he pushed them aside. _"She is mine. . . I've waited so long, and now she is mine." _

Erik growled as their tongues entwined in a power battle and the man pulled his future bride closer to him, letting their bodies mold together. Christine purred happily as his hands began to wander over her womanly curves in a possessive way.

"Erik, please," She begged, clinging to his forearms with her delicate hands, "Please."

He didn't need to be told twice, and with a firm hand, he grabbed her right breast and began to massage it gently. Christine gasped and tipped her head backwards, the sensation new to her, but not unwelcome.

"You're beautiful, my Angel." Erik commented as he moved his fingers deftly across the surface of her soft plump breasts.

Christine blushed with pleasure at his compliment, and moaned as he pinched her nipple.

Erik chuckled quietly, "Do you like that, Christine?"

"Ye-Yes!" She exclaimed grabbing his hand in her own, and squeezing it. "Yes!"

Erik wanted to take her right there and then. He wanted to plunge deep into her and become one with her. He wanted to be inside her forever. But he couldn't rush it. He didn't want to hurt her afterall.

The Phantom held Christine Daae in his arms and looked at her for permission. "May I?"

When Christine looked confused he clarified. "May I pick you up?"

Christine nodded and Erik stood, and then lifted her up. As he approached the bed that Belle and Christine shared he placed her on it and leaned above her, supported only on his arms.

"Are you sure you want this, Christine?" He asked one more time.

The woman blushed, "Erik . . . I want you."

Erik pushed aside all thoughts other than his beautiful Christine, and began to plant kisses all over her body, taking in every inch of her. Just as he was about to take off his shirt, someone knocked and the door opened.

* * *

Belle had worked as fast as possible, gathering up all the provisions they would need for their long journey. And with some difficulty, she had gotten Beast outside and ready to run alongside the horses. Now the woman only needed to round up Christine, and they were good to go.

The plump woman walked briskly up the stairs, her once neat bun now falling out in wisps all around her head. _ "I hope she's ready." _

As Belle reached her destination, she knocked twice and opened the door. The sight that met her made her green eyes open twice their regular size.

Christine Daae and her Master Erik were laying on the bed, the girl completely naked, and her Master without his mask. Both turned to Belle in a dazed manner.

The room was silent for about a minute before Belle regained herself. "Heavens be praised! It's bloody about time!"

Christine looked up at Erik for some kind of understanding, but he was staring at Belle.

Belle smiled, and her large dimples showed. "It's about time you two admitted your feelings and made love! I'm happy for yeh!"

Christine was surprised at Belles' bluntness, but was also grateful for it. "Thank you Belle."

Belle nodded to them, "Aye! And I hate to interrupt, but I thought we were in a hurry."

Erik suddenly jumped up from the bed, the past hours returning to him. He quickly buttoned his top several buttons and composed himself. "Thank you Belle. Did you do as I asked?"

"Yes Master," the red haired woman answered promptly. "The provisions are in the saddlebags, and Beast is outside."

"Good, good." The Phantom said quickly. "I'll go wait outside then."

Then Erik turned back to Christine, "I'll be waiting for you."

Christine saw another meaning in his words and blushed once more. "And I will wait." She promised.

Erik nodded once in understanding and left the room. But not before he had picked up his mask off the floor and replaced it on his face.

When the two females were alone, Belle smiled happily and held out a blouse and a thick pair of pants. "Let's get you dressed, Duckling."

Christine hopped of the bed, and dressed faster than she ever had before. For every moment she took, was another minute away from her Angel of Music. . . Her Erik. . .

* * *

Erik looked at the cottage and knew he would most likely never see it again. But the fact didn't bother him. Afterall he had his music and Christine.

The Phantom straightened, as Belle and Christine came out of the cottage and approached him. The lovely young singer smiled as she stopped beside him, and she held something out in her gloved hands.

Erik lifted an eyebrow underneath his mask. "What is this?"

"A letter," Christine said still smiling.

The Phantom felt his stomach flutter uncomfortably, "To whom?"

"To Raoul." Erik stiffened at the name, but Christine continued. "I wanted to tell him not to search for me . . . I needed to tell him that I made my choice, and that I don't regret anything that has happened."

"What is your choice?" Erik thought that she had given into him completely moments before, but maybe he had merely dreamed it. Maybe she still wanted the Vicomte afterall.

Christine saw the despair in his eyes and knew what he was thinking. And without a second thought she stood up on tiptoe and kissed him. As she pulled away from his lips she whispered, "I choose you."

Erik sighed heavily, and breathed in her scent. He had been worried she had changed her mind once more.

"May I give it to you, to send to the Vicomte?" She asked, with her wide brown eyes innocent and honest.

Erik nodded once, "You may." The Phantom saying this turned on his heel and walked back towards the cottage. As he reached the door, he placed the letter in the crack of the door. The Vicomte would see it when he came, and he would know the truth.

Erik then feeling lighthearted returned to Christine and Belles' side and helped both women up onto their horses. Once they were both settled, Erik jumped up behind Christine on his mare Aria and wrapped his arms around his bride to be.

Spurring Aria the man called, "Come Beast."

The giant Basset Hound bayed happily and began to run after the horses. And within minutes, the cottage was completely out of sight, and the trio rode through the trees with their sights on the future, never once looking back.

* * *

Raoul re-read the note for what felt like the hundredth time, angry tears falling freely from his light blue eyes.

She must have been forced into writing it! There was no other explanation. . . She couldn't really love that . . . that. . That monster! It was impossible!

The Vicomte De Chagny read the note aloud his voice slowly growing into a yell.

"_**Dear Raoul, **_

_**I know that you will receive this letter as you search for me. And I know you will search high and low. As flattering as the idea is, I must ask you to go no further. **_

_**When last I saw you, I went with my Angel of Music to save both of our lives. And at the time, I hated him for making me choose. **_

_**But now as I compose this letter, I find that it is not hatred that I feel now, but rather, dare I say it. . . Love. **_

_**I do still have feelings for you, my dear Raoul, but I have made my choice. I have agreed to marry my Angel, and as such, I must ask you to forget me. **_

_**I doubt I will ever see you again, but I know I will forever hold you dear in my heart. Please forgive me and know that I have no regrets. **_

_**I pray that you will find someone you can love, who will love you in return. And I wish you every happiness Raoul. I really do. **_

_**Please remember the good times when we were children, and not the dark days of the Opera House. Remember me the day you returned my red scarf from the sea shore. Remember me as I once was. . . Remember me as child. **_

_**With all my love, **_

_**Little Lottie.**_

Raoul's hands shook violently as he crumpled the note. Did the monster really think a letter would stop him? Did he really suppose that he would just forget Christine?

The Vicomte threw the crumpled paper as far as he could, before he ran back to his white stallion. Jumping on the animals' back, he spurred it onward. He would have to hurry, if he was to make up for lost time and catch up to them.

His horse neighed in protest, but obeyed his master. Knowing that if he didn't there would be all hell to pay.

Raoul rode his horse, and thought repeatedly of how nice it would feel to pull his sword out of the creatures' heart. This thought alone brought a smile to his face. This thought alone made him happy.

* * *

_**Hey guys *waves* Well, I decided to take the plunge and make this an M rated Fic! Woot Woot! **_

_**And Raoul is not going to give up easily. xD He's a stubborn devil, isn't he? LOL! **_

_**Anyway, I hope you like the M rated goodness. I promise more will come on their Wedding Night! _ YAY! **_

_**~Lyn Harkeran**_


	12. Chapter Twelve: Stay with Me

**Chapter Twelve: Stay with Me**

* * *

The two black mares galloped at a steady pace, as they traversed the borderline of the Epernay countryside and arrived at the banks of the river Marne.

In the summer and spring, the Marne, was a beautiful lazy river with gentle currents and a delightful temperature. But in the dead of winter it was quite the opposite. Though there wasn't ice present on the rivers' surface, the water was a deathtrap. Instead of its usual cheery light greenish color, the large body of water was a deep black that flowed at a rapid pace downstream.

The mares pranced anxiously making sure not to get too close to the waters' edge, lest they fall in and be swept away with the tide.

The Phantom looked out at the Marne with a calculating eye and judged each possible option. He had made plans with the local priests to ferry them across the Marne, but that plan was to take place in two days time. And they needed to cross now. But, if the water was too cold, they would freeze to death before they got to their destination. And if the current was too fast, they would all drown.

Christine, who had been asleep, now opened her eyes and looked around in wonder. They had covered a lot of ground since she had last paid attention. "Where are we?" She asked intently.

Erik looked down at her, "We are on the banks of the Marne, Christine. And I fear we must find a way to cross it."

Christine rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked out towards the dark river. After a moment she looked back at him. "How shall we cross it? There is no raft, nor bridge, and the current is too fast. We shall drown or freeze if we try to swim across."

Erik frowned slightly as the woman sitting with him voiced his very own thoughts.

"I know," he stated calmly. "But we must cross here. Our sanctuary is only half a mile from where we now stand. And the horses can't take much more."

"Master Erik," Belle called out, her voice strong even against the howling wind.

Erik turned to look at the woman, "What is it?"

Belle smiled, "I see a bridge several yards over in the trees."

The Phantom followed her finger to where she pointed and saw that there was in fact, a bridge. A log several feet wide lay above the water and it seemed sturdy enough.

"Good work Belle," He yelled over the wind, nodding at her.

Belle nodded back, "We should be able to cross. But the horses won't make it; they're too bloody big."

"Indeed," Erik said as he dismounted from Aria and helped Christine down as well. "We'll have to go the rest of the way on foot."

Once Christine was safe on the ground, Erik walked over to the other mare and helped Belle down as well.

"Thank you," Belle huffed gratefully as her feet planted on the snow covered bank.

Erik walked back over to Christine and Aria and began to take off the horses' saddle and reigns. He placed the saddlebags over his left forearm, and finished taking off Aria's bridle with his right. Within seconds he was finished, and the horse was free.

Erik looked at his horse with loving eyes, "Go on girl."

Aria neighed sorrowfully as Erik rubbed her nose gently. "I know you don't want to," Erik said in a whisper, "but I can't take you with me this time."

Christine patted the horses' side and crooned a wordless phrase. The horse blinked and nudged Erik, as if to say, _"Let's go." _

"No, Aria. You must stay." Erik said firmly.

The horse seemed to cry, as the Phantom and Christine walked away, her heart broken.

Erik took Christine's arm in one of his and Belles' in the other, and together they walked to the makeshift bridge.

"I'll go first, just to make sure it's safe." Erik said. "Once I'm across, follow, one at a time."

Both the females nodded, as Erik climbed up on the broken off tree. He stood for a moment making sure it would hold his weight before he began to make his way over to the other side.

Every step he took he held his breath, praying that it would hold. He almost slipped several times, but he always managed to catch himself at the last moment. After two minutes of this, he finally reached the other side and jumped down onto the firm ground. He sighed with relief and turned around.

"Come to me," He yelled over the wind. "One of you, come to me!"

He could see the two women discussing which would go first and Belle gently pushed Christine towards the log. He could see her smiling at the younger woman. Christine seemed hesitant at first, but with more prodding from Belle, she rose up onto the bridge and began to cross.

Erik watched her every movement, readying himself to jump in the river after her if she fell. Fear covered her young face as she walked slowly across the open expanse.

"Don't be afraid," Erik encouraged. "You're almost there."

Christine looked up and met his eyes, and took the last five steps towards him. As she made it, Erik grabbed her waist and helped her down off of it.

Christine cried in relief, "I thought I was going to fall!"

Erik kissed her forehead, "Just breathe, my love. You're safe now."

Christine snuggled into Erik's chest as the man turned his attentions back to Belle.

"Belle," he called, "It's safe to come now."

The fiery haired woman nodded to him and hoisted herself up onto the log. She looked down at her feet as she took her first few steps. And soon, she seemed to get the hang of it, and walked slightly faster.

Erik smiled. Of course Belle would be able to do it. She was the most capable person he knew.

Belle Delacour was only seven feet away from them when it happened. At first Erik couldn't believe it, because it happened so fast. But it had happened and he was quick to take action.

Belle began to take another step just as the wood began to crack underneath her. The woman tried to run the last few feet but the wood gave way and she plummeted into the cold, black water.

"Belle!" Erik yelled, as she submerged underneath the water depths.

Without a second thought, the Phantom moved past Christine and dived into the water after the older woman.

The current pulled him forward but the man paid it no mind as he looked for his housekeeper. Though his vision was limited, his conviction was absolute. He had to find her.

* * *

Christine screamed as both Erik and Belle were pulled downstream. The young singer ran along with them on the river bank, her hair getting caught by hanging tree branches and bushes, but she never stopped. She couldn't lose track of them!

As the water moved farther inland, the water began to become slightly shallow and for long periods of time, Christine would lose sight of the water completely. But she never stopped moving.

As she cleared a thicket of trees and spotted the Marne once more, a horrifying sight caught her eyes. There on the bank, lay her Angel, face down in the snow.

Christine sobbed as she ran to him and turned him over. "Erik!"

The Phantom lay still; he wasn't breathing.

Christine cried as she pumped his chest trying to get the water out of his lungs and get his heart to come back to life.

"Erik, don't leave me!" The girl pounded his stomach and chest with her fists trying to beat the life back into him. "Don't you leave me alone!"

Water sputtered from the man's mouth and he gagged as the water left him. Christine hugged him to her breast and kissed his forehead, as she cried, "Erik, my Erik."

Erik clung to her and cried too. "I lost her." He moaned. "I lost, Belle."

Christine couldn't accept this.

"She could have washed up on the shore, farther upstream." The girl interjected in an effort to calm her Angel.

Erik shook his head with a choked sob, "She didn't resurface in front of me. She didn't resurface at all!"

Christine closed her eyes and was silent as this news sunk in.

Since Christine had known the woman, she had been nothing but kind and loving. And now she was gone. . . Belle Delacour was gone.

* * *

Raoul followed the river downstream, on the Epernay side. Though he had lost the tracks at the river bank he knew he would find them once he was able to cross.

He had ridden a mile downstream when he saw that it was slowly becoming shallow. The Vicomte forced his horse into a gallop, with new found hope. He would be able to cross soon!

As he rounded a corner and came back to the main shore he reigned in his horse.

Lying in the shallows was a figure, with stunning red hair.

Raoul jumped down from his stallion and ran over to the figure. It was a woman.

The Vicomte inspected her and saw that she was still breathing, albeit labored. But in the cold winter winds, she wouldn't last long in wet clothes.

Raoul stood up from the woman and looked across the bank. He knew what he needed to do, though he knew it would cost him dear. But what choice did he have?

The Vicomte picked the woman up in his arms carried her over to his horse, where he placed her gently. Then he jumped up behind her unconscious body and spurred his Stallion back the way he had come.

He knew that he would fall behind in his chase, or lose Christine's trail altogether, but he couldn't leave this woman to die.

Raoul forced his horse to ride faster than before, he had to get this woman into a warm environment, or she would die from hypothermia. He would care for this woman in the Phantoms' Cottage, and then he would resume his chase.

With this promise to himself, the Vicomte urged forward in an effort to save the woman from a freezing death.

* * *

**_I decided to add another twist to this story, so please just bare with me, lovelies. _**

**_Yes, Belle is not dead. And Raoul is being the Knight in Shining Armor. I'm not sure to what level I'll take the Belle/Raoul relationship. Or if it'll be a relationship at all. . . . :s _**

**_Would you guys like to see Belle and Raoul hook up? If so please let me know. . . I'm still at a loss. _**

**_Leave Reviews if you read, please! Thanks! :D I luff you guys!  
_**

**_~Lyn Harkeran_ **


	13. Chapter Thirteen: An Act of Kindness

**Chapter Thirteen: An Act of Kindness**

* * *

About half a mile from the frozen riverbank of the Marne in the middle of nowhere, there rested a small two roomed shack. It wasn't much to look at, but to the family that lived there, it was home. Once this had been a family of many in number, but now only two of that great number remained: a mother and her small child. And though the two lived in seclusion, they were happy and were constantly finding comfort in simple things.

The small family was content, but even happiness came at a price. Both mother and daughter worked hard, though in the deep winter months it meant little to nothing.

Moments earlier, the mother whose name was Fantine, had sent her child out to fetch more wood for the fire, before they went to sleep for the night. The girl had donned her shawl and set out into the darkness to obey her mother. The child was terrified of the dark, but she knew the job had to be done. So with uneven steps in the snow, she walked towards the woodpile that rested near the family's well.

As the child reached the large stack, she stopped, frozen with fear. Someone had just emerged from the tree line from the south and was headed her way.

* * *

Christine Daae almost cried with relief as she spotted the small cabin and the warm light shining from within. With a thankful prayer in her heart she hugged her companion closer than before.

Erik was soaked to the bone from his dive into the Marne, and he had just recently turned an unhealthy shade of pale blue. It was almost as if he was frozen from the inside out.

"Just a little further, my Angel," Christine promised gently urging the freezing Phantom forward. "Once we're out of the cold you can rest."

Erik's movements were forced and uneven. Not to mention that his whole body was shaking uncontrollably.

"The-the lig-light," Erik chattered as they reached the edge of the woods. "I can-can see t-the light."

Christine smiled at him. "Yes, Erik . . . Light and warmth await us."

As the two crossed the yard and drew closer to the house, the young singer spotted a lone figure who was watching them, near what Christine thought to be a home-dug well.

Without thinking, Christine called out to the person, her high voice carrying over the winter wind. "Hello!" As the words escaped her lips she was shocked to see the small figure dart back towards the house.

"Wait!" Christine cried out anxiously. "Please don't go!"

At her plea the person stopped in their tracks. The young singer almost sobbed with joy as the figure took several steps back in their direction.

"Who are you?" A soft voice wondered aloud. Christine thought it sounded a lot like a child, and immediately answered back with care.

"My name is Christine Daae, and I'm in need of a place to stay for the night."

The child was silent for a moment before replying. "Alright . . . Follow me."

Christine obediently moved forward and compelled Erik to do the same.

As the child reached for the door's latch, Christine realized that the girl couldn't be more than five or six. "What's your name?" The young woman found herself asking as the child pulled the door open. The child looked like she was about to answer but before she could another voice answered the question.

"Cosette? Sweetheart, what kept you?"

The girl named Cosette ignored her mother's comment as she stepped into the small shack. "Mama, Christine needs a place to stay!"

"Christine?" The woman walked over to the open doorway and observed the two strangers standing outside her door. They seemed bedraggled and one of them had obviously gotten wet recently.

Christine on the other hand also was examining the woman who stood before her. She was a tall beautiful blonde woman with soft brown eyes. She was simple, but beautiful.

"Please Madame," Christine addressed her politely. "We seek shelter from the winter's cold. . . My companion is very sick. He can't travel anymore tonight."

The woman gave her a genuine smile and stepped aside so they could enter. "You are most welcome here, Mademoiselle, as is your companion. Please come in before your friend collapses on my front step."

The young singer laughed for the first time in what felt like forever. "Thank you Madame! Your kindness touches my heart."

The woman nodded to her and Christine was extremely grateful when she helped her, by taking ahold of Erik's other arm.

"Come good Monsieur," she crooned gently. "Let's get you inside and warm you up, shall we?"

Erik nodded, "Thank-thank you."

As the woman and Christine helped Erik lay on a small pallet of straw in front of the fire, Cosette caught sight of the Phantom's face, which was no longer covered by a mask. The child's eyes grew wide, but she made not a sound as the two older women gently placed the strangely deformed man down on the straw. Cosette had been taught to be respectful, and she knew her mother would not be pleased if she made a fuss. So she said nothing.

After a few minutes of silence, the woman offered Christine her name.

"I'm Fantine, and my daughter is Cosette."

"I'm so pleased to meet you both," Christine said happily, smiling at the child who sat in the corner. "I was truly blessed to have found you. The storm was getting worse by the minute, and as I said before, my companion wouldn't have made it much further."

Fantine patted Christine's shoulder, "You are welcome to stay here as long as you need to, Christine. I can see that both you and your husband have been through quite a lot."

Christine was about to object that Erik was not her husband, but before she could Fantine had walked over to her daughter and lifted her up in her arms. "It's time I got Cosette to bed, and I'm sure you both are tired, so we'll leave you be."

Christine nodded once to her, gratitude for how sweet this stranger and her daughter were being.

Fantine cradled her daughter to her side as they walked to the door on the other side of the room. Behind the door was a small bed room that they shared, with a bed and dresser and not much else. But to them it was perfect.

"If you need anything, don't be afraid to ask." Fantine said as she closed the door, her eyes twinkling in the dim light.

Christine sat still for a couple of seconds, marveled at the woman and her act of kindness, knowing she would never be able to fully pay her back. Nor would she ever be able to tell her how grateful she really was for the love that had been shown.

"You are a blessed being, Fantine." Christine whispered to the air before she began to tend to Erik, who was slowly getting warmer by the minute.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **_

**_I added Fantine and Cosette from Les Miserables just for kicks. I thought it would be a cross-over. ;P In the plot-line of Les Mis this would have taken place right after Fantine's Husband abandoned them. And I will address that in the next chapter. _**

**_Please leave a review if you are enjoying the story. It really gives me a boost! _**

**_~Lyn Harkeran_**


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Somewhere Familiar

**Chapter Fourteen: Somewhere Familiar**

* * *

It was bitter cold and the blizzard had gotten even worse than before. One could barely see in front of ones face, for the snowflakes flew so viciously.

No one moved on this frozen plain, all those who lived in the forest had taken shelter in their homes or had found a place to rest the night within someone else's. Beast wasn't so lucky.

The large bloodhound trudged through the snow banks with half frozen paws, his drool hanging icicles. The poor animal had been running for hours trying to find his Master's scent, but with the raging wind he had soon lost the trail. So the dog did what any dog would have done. He decided to go back to somewhere familiar; home.

Beast continued move, but with each step his movements became slower than before. He was slowly but surely freezing to death.

Just as the dog had nearly slowed down to a crawl, the animal picked up a familiar scent. One member of his family was here! They hadn't left him!

The animal with renewed vigor ran wildly in the direction of the scent, baying joyfully!

The woman had stayed! The woman had waited for him!

* * *

Raoul had returned to the Phantom's Cottage with the unconscious woman and had been tending to her for hours. The Vicomte had lit a large fire in the grate, and to his everlasting embarrassment, he had stripped the woman's wet clothes off her pale body. Raoul tried not to give it too much thought. Nor did he pay attention to the woman's shapely naked form as he began to undress himself.

This woman had a severe case of hypothermia and if her shaking form was any indication, she wasn't getting any warmer, even with the fire.

Raoul was just about to take his shirt off when he heard it. At first just a whisper on the wind. . . But then it grew in volume and desperation. It was some kind of wild animal out there.

Raoul chose to ignore the sound and continued to undo his shirt buttons.

"P-please . . ."

Raoul spun around to face the woman, surprised. Large green eyes met his light blue ones and Raoul had to admit that she was truly beautiful, in a motherly sort of way.

"Madame," he asked quietly approaching the bed she was currently laying in.

The woman seemed to fight for the words to leave her throat but soon he was able to make out a proper sentence.

"Ple-please let . . . the dog-dog in-in. He'll . . . freeze."

Raoul studied her for a long minute as he listened to the howling outside the cottage. "That is your dog?"

The woman nodded her head weakly, "Please, Monsieur . . . Let my-my- B-b-b-b-beast in."

As Raoul looked into those pleading green eyes he knew that he had to do as she asked. "I'll be right back, Madame. You rest."

The Vicomte ran from the room and took the steps two at a time. He had to hurry or the woman would be beyond saving.

Opening the door wide he looked out into the storm. At first he saw nothing but the white snow, and then the large shape was bounding towards him.

The biggest blood hound he had ever seen ran past him into the house, making up for lost time. And the Vicomte chuckled. At least the dog knew what he wanted.

Making his way back up to the bedroom where he had left the woman, he was surprised to find the dog with his head laying on the woman's stomach, gently licking her fingers.

Raoul smiled at the pair and quickly shunned the rest of his clothing. "Madame I'm afraid you will have to share my body heat, at least until you warm up a bit. I promise to make no advances towards you."

Belle smiled weakly, "T-thank you."

Raoul climbed underneath the covers behind the large woman and hesitantly wrapped his arms around her, bringing her closer to his body. She was as cold as ice!

"What is your name?" The Vicomte asked as he gently rubbed her arms.

"B-B-Belle," the woman whispered. "And he-he is B-B-Beast."

Raoul repeated the name as he continued to rub her arms for warmth. "Belle. . ."

Beast circled and laid down on the floor next to the fire, facing towards his mistress, his large bloodshot eyes staring at her. And the trio stayed like that. Not moving or talking, just existing.

Beast whined happily as he drifted off to sleep. He was home.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **_

_**A lot of you wondered what happened to Beast and showed concern. I never forgot him, I just couldn't find a place to put him! ^^" Now I did! Sorry for it being so short! **_

_**~Lyn Harkeran **_


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Delirium

**Chapter Fifteen: Delirium**

* * *

Christine laid yet another cool cloth on Erik's forehead, a dry sob wracking her entire body as she listened to her Angel cry out for the hundredth time that evening. It had almost been two days since they been invited into Fantine and Cosette home, but instead of getting better, Erik was progressively getting worse.

Christine rubbed the cold compress across her beloved's face, knowing that she was the reason he was in such pain. If only she had taken off his wet clothes and held him close to her the moment he had been laid in front of the fireplace. If she had, her Angel wouldn't currently be plagued by a vicious brain fever or the delirious images that made him cry out in despair.

The young woman hadn't known about hypothermia or how to cure it until it was too late. It was the morning after their night time arrival that Christine had realized her mistake. Erik had been deathly pale and shaking so violently that he continuously almost bit his tongue. Fantine had asked Christine how his clothes had dried fast enough for him to be wearing them so soon, and it was then that Christine had realized Erik's fevered state.

Fantine had been quick to explain as she had helped Christine to undress the sick man and tuck him under several thick quilts, but it was too late. By then his fever had fully set in, leaving the once very capable musician, into a stark raving madman.

_"If only I hadn't been so careless,"_ Christine thought sorrowfully. _"My Angel, is sick because I was clueless to his condition and didn't help him in time. . ." _

As the young woman looked down at her mentor, a horrid thought filled her mind, making her cry even harder than before.

_"He is going to die, because of me. . . He's going to leave me, just like my father did. . . I will be alone once again. . ." _

Christine felt her heart begin to break at the mere thought of losing her Angel, but she fought back her fears, ferociously. _"I cannot do this now. . . My Angel needs me, to be strong. I must remain calm and help him to get better." _

Leaning down close, the young singer planted a gentle kiss on the Phantom's damp cheek, nuzzling him gently. "Stay with me, my love. I will not know what to do without you."

"NOOOO!" Erik yelled frantically in response, tears streaming down his face as he witnessed something only he could see, his hands moved to push the image away. "No, no, no!"

Christine would have been shocked at the random outburst if he hadn't been yelling for the last few hours, but this wasn't a new occurrence. So she didn't take it to heart. Instead, she merely shushed him and took his hands in her own, kissing them and whispering encouragement and words of endearing in his ear.

After several more minutes, the Phantom settled down once more and Christine continued with her ministrations before she began to wipe her tear-stained cheeks with the hem of the skirt she had borrowed from Fantine. Then, once her face was clear, she pulled the covers tighter around Erik, making sure he was warm enough.

"I've got you, my love. My dear, sweet Erik. . ." She whispered sweetly. "And I will never let you go."

* * *

Erik knew his Angel of Music was dying. It was obvious from the wild look in her eyes and the uncharacteristically strange things that left her mouth whenever she looked at him. He knew that she didn't mean what she said, that her ramblings were the cause of her brain fever and delirious visions, but it didn't make her comments hurt any less.

The eight year old watched his mother day in and day out, taking care of her every need, remaining strong while he tended to her, and weeping bitter tears when he was alone. For he knew that the woman he loved would soon be gone.

She had good days and bad days, but even on the days where she was happy, the woman no longer knew who Erik was, and it broke his heart.

Alouette had said many unforgivable things during the last few weeks of her life, but it was on the day of her death that she became a different person. It was her last conversation on earth that the woman broke the spirit of her disfigured son, who she had once claimed she loved more than music.

She had had eyes bright with sickness and a body that reeked of decay, when she had renounced Erik. And as much as she had once hoped, Alouette died a stranger to her child.

** (* * * *)**

"Why won't you leave me in peace?"

Erik looked up at his mother, through the cloth bag that currently covered his face. It was a poor excuse of a mask, but it was the only material he had access to, having been labeled 'the devil's child' by all the merchants in the nearest town.

"I cannot leave you," he answered quietly making sure to keep his voice low and steady so as not to upset her.

"Why," the woman asked.

"You are my mother," the boy said without hesitation. "I would never leave your side by choice."

The woman scrunched up her brow in something akin to disgust. "I don't have any children. And if I did, my child wouldn't be someone who wore a sack over his head like a madman."

Erik fought back the tears as her words sunk in, but he ultimately failed and his sack was stained, making it look even stranger than before.

"But I am your son," he objected softly. "When I was little you told me that I was beautiful despite my . . . unusual face. You said that you loved me and that_ I_ was your music."

Alouette shook uncontrollably as the chills got the better of her, but her gaze never left the boy that sat by her bedside.

"If you are beautiful, than why do you hide your face?"

Erik studied at her for a moment before answering.

"I didn't want to startle you . . ."

"Show me," Was her simple request. Something so tempting and sweet that the boy didn't think twice before taking off his makeshift mask and showing her the face she had kissed and touched a thousand times since he had been born.

Alouette didn't scream at the horrible sight, nor did she seem afraid, but her words stung worse than any physical beating ever could, leaving the eight year-old feeling empty and scared.

"I fear that I lied to you." She said softly leaning back against her pillows. "You are an ugly creature and I do not love you."

Erik grabbed her hand forcefully and shook his head vehemently. "You don't mean that! You love me! You left your husband for my sake! You wouldn't have done that unless you loved me!"

Alouette stared at her son with indifferent eyes. "I have never been married. But even if I had been, I would have had to have lied to you. Not even a mother could love such a hideous thing as you."

The woman's eyes seem to grow dimmer by the second and her breathing slowed to an unnatural speed, and all the while her child watched, crying silently as he stroked her hand with his own smaller ones.

It was as Alouette's heart finally stopped beating that Erik knew that he was truly alone and unloved.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **_

**_Erik has a bad fever and is somewhat delirious, but the flash back with his mother actually happened. Just a heads up. I think that Erik's memories would be the thing to plague his thoughts when he's sleeping. _**

**_Anyway, I hope you like this chapter! It's 4:00 a.m. and I'm beat. I'm gonna call it a night. But please review if you read! I need boosts to keep me going! _**

**_~Lyn Harkeran_**


	16. Chapter Sixteen: A Tale of Two Sisters

**Chapter Sixteen: A Tale of Two Sisters**

* * *

It was warm in the cottage, almost too warm. But the temperature needed to be kept was warm as possible if Belle was meant to get well.

Raoul leaned down to put another log in the fireplace and then moved to pick up the spoon he had discarded only moments prior. The Vicomte took the large serving spoon and stirred the contents of the pot that hung above the crackling fire, noting that the food was almost ready. As he stirred the homemade stew, he heard the woman who sat in the chair next to him sigh to herself.

It had been several days since Raoul had found Belle suffering from severe hypothermia, and though she was still sick, the man was sure that she would indeed get well. But then, despite his optimism of her condition, he was still worried about her.

"Madame, are you alright?"

Belle who was currently scratching Beast behind the ear, gave the young man a small smile. "Never better, never better. I'm just surprised that a nobleman, such as yourself, is able to cook a decent meal."

Raoul looked at her with calculating eyes, "Why would you think I'm a noble?" The man was sure he hadn't mentioned his station or why he had been out in the storm, but her bright green eyes left no room to lie.

The woman's smile grew wider, if only slightly, and she continued to pet the large blood hound. "You have that particular look about ya, and you carry yourself higher than most folk. It's all in the shoulders."

Raoul turned his attention back to the stew and dipped up two bowls, one for himself and one for Belle. Though he set his bowl aside and moved to help the woman eat hers. The plump woman immediately tried to protest that she could feed herself, but the Vicomte brushed off her complaints and placed the spoon up to her lips.

"I know that you are more than capable, Madame," Raoul promised gently, giving her a generous sized spoonful. "But I want you to save up your strength for more important things."

Belle eyed him as she accepted the stew and chewed slowly. "You're quite the gentleman, aren't you?"

"I try to be," Raoul answered truthfully. "Though lately I've been falling short of my mark."

Belle waited for him to continue, but the young noble offered no more on the subject and the woman merely ate her stew in silence. Raoul was very careful as he feed Belle and he was never impatient, or gave her too much food in one mouthful.

_"Only an experienced caregiver could do this," _Belle thought to herself, as she once more had a case of the shivers. _"He's too gentle. . . Like he thinks I'm going to break into a thousand pieces if he moves too fast." _

"Who was it?" The woman finally asked, when she had finished her stew and Raoul had begun to eat his.

"Pardon?"

"Who was it you had to care for?"

Raoul's face hardened slightly and it seemed like he wouldn't answer, but then he decided to tell the truth.

"My mother," he said simply. "She was very sick and my father was constantly away on business."

"Couldn't yer servants attend to her," Belle asked, truthfully curious.

Raoul shook his head and turned his gaze to the fire. "No Madame. I wouldn't let anyone other than myself and our old housekeeper Lettie near her."

"Why not?"

"I knew that no one would take care of her properly." He said softly. "No one could ever have _wanted _to care for her as I did."

Belle studied the man who sat on the floor for several long moments, and as she did so, the woman could see the remnants of a lonely child crying out to her. His light blue eyes held a sadness that she herself was all too familiar with. It was the look of someone who had lost a loved one early on in life.

There was obviously more to this story then he was saying, but Belle wasn't one to pry, so she leaned forward and took his hand in her own. Raoul looked up at her, surprised by the contact, and was further shocked when the red haired woman placed a soft and chaste kiss to his inner palm.

"I bet your mother is right proud of you, dear. So don't ya ever believe otherwise."

Raoul looked uncertain as he gazed at Belle before he bowed his head to her.

"Thank you for your kind words. . . I would like to think that she is happy with what I've become," he offered which only made Belle smile.

"You shouldn't thank me for stating something that a blind man could see, duckling? It is clear to me that she must have loved you greatly and hence _must_ be pleased with who you've become."

Raoul returned his light blue gaze back to the glowing flames and Belle saw tears fall down his sculpture-like cheekbones, and she felt her heart break for this young man that she hardly knew. Her empathy began to overwhelm her as her mind remembered another young man she had known who had the same sorrow hidden deep beneath his surface of his eyes.

"I loved her," the young Vicomte said quietly. "But seeing what I've become, I know she will no longer have outstretched arms, waiting for me within the lovely gardens of Heaven. . . She most likely hates her progeny as much as my father did."

Belle's mind raced as she thought about what the young noble meant before she asked the question that had haunted her relentlessly since she had awoken from her nearly frozen sleep.

"What was a nobleman like yourself doing out in the Epernay countryside in the wee hours of the morning, in the middle of a winter storm?"

Raoul looked at her now and his face betrayed a deliberate conviction as he reached out and began to methodically pet Beast, who sat between himself Belle.

The bloodhound was fast asleep, but snuffled his approval at the strong hand that now ran the length of his furry back again and again. The dog and the man had become very good friends over the past handful of days and Belle was thankful of this. For if anything happened to her at least her Beastel would be safe.

"I was out in the storm because someone I hold very dear was taken from me." Raoul was solemn as he continued to rub Beast thoughtfully. "I was trying to catch up to the fiend that took her. I had finally picked up the trail . . ."

"But you stopped to save my life instead," Belle finished calmly.

The man's silence was answer enough and the stout woman was able to fill in all the remaining blanks. This noble- this young man- was the person they had been fleeing from. It was Raoul's handsome face that had made her Master Erik so fearful. It was _this _blonde haired beauty of a creature that had threatened the sorrowfully deformed monster she served. _He_ was the one that Christine had written the letter to.

"Madame," the Vicomte asked suddenly, breaking the silence. "Have you seen a young woman in the past few days? Before you fell into the depths of the Marne? She has lovely brown hair and eyes to match and is no more than eighteen to nineteen years of age. I'm sure if you had seen her, her face would be memorable to you."

Belle nodded at the description, to say that she _had _in fact seen Christine, and Raoul instantly grabbed either side of her chair, as his anxiety seemed to get the better of him.

"Where did you see her," he asked anxiously. "Was she alright? Please Madame, try to remember! It is important that I find her!"

The red haired woman held up one hand to quiet him and as she did so, Belle made a decision. It was a decision that she prayed she wouldn't come to regret later on.

"First of all, stop calling me _'Madame'_. My name is Belle. Your formal titles are making me feel older and older by the minute."

Raoul nodded and then bid her to continue with news of the young woman he had been tracking. The portly woman paused for a moment as she fought down her fears and took a deep breath before she began.

"Young man, I'd like to tell you a story." Before Raoul to protest or interrupt, Belle added, "By it's conclusion I promise you will have heard the whereabouts of your lovely Miss Daae."

Raoul looked startled that she knew his beloved's name, but didn't say a word as he waited for the story.

Belle closed her eyes as she pictured it all in her mind and her voice was a low murmur as she told her tale.

"Years ago there were two sisters, named Sophie and Alouette. They lived a life of wealth and plenty and were good friends even from the very beginning of their kinship. And as all female tykes must, they grew into two beautiful young ladies with suitors and marriage proposals were never lacking.

"Sophie, the elder of the two, met a young tradesmen from the Colonies, was wed, and left for the Continent only one week after. She started a new life and was blessed with five healthy children that she loved dearly.

But despite her happiness, the woman missed her little sister. So Sophie kept in contact with Alouette through letter correspondence and they remained closer than ever.

A handful of years passed and Alouette married too, taking a nobleman as her spouse. But the marriage held no love and Alouette grew unhappy. Only through her sister's affection and her unbridled passion for music was the young woman able to take any joy from life.

Sophie wrote to her sister every week for years before she heard the news that she was to be an aunt. And once it was close to the baby's birth, the woman left quickly for France to be with her sister, and as a test of faith, took her eldest daughter to accompany her."

Belle stopped and her green eyes sparkled brightly in the fire's glow. Slowly she looked at the enraptured Vicomte with a sad smile.

"I had never seen my aunt Alouette before the day we entered her home," she continued softly, noting the release of breath from Raoul.

"_You_ were Sophie's oldest child?" The man asked curiously.

"Yes."

Belle waited for him to say more, but when he didn't she resumed her story.

"I was eleven years old at the time, and my mother had brought me along so that I could stay to help my Aunt when my mother had to return home. I didn't want to stay in France, but I honored her wish, as you can see. And I have never tired of my promise to her.

We took a ship to France and the trip was a trying one. But we finally arrived almost two months after we set out. We were not greeted at the harbor, and when we got to Alouette's home, we were not welcome.

My uncle was a spiteful and violent man, and when we arrived, my cousin had already been born. I had never seen anyone act as mad as he did. I remember he went about the house screaming and throwing objects to and fro as if he was possessed by the very devil himself. And it was only when we went upstairs and saw Alouette and the newborn babe that we understood why."

"What was wrong with the child?" Raoul asked quietly as he fought to read the storytellers face.

Belle began to shed tears as she said, "What indeed."

Raoul looked at her for several moments before an understanding seemed to pass to him and his eyes grew undeniably darker.

"The child was deformed, wasn't he?"

Belle nodded and even more tears fell down her pale cheeks.

"I had never seen a human being with such a horrible face," she admitted truthfully. "And to my everlasting shame, I was scared of the poor creature when first I laid eyes on him. . . But then when I was about to flee the room, my cousin opened his mouth and began to sing."

"Newborns cannot sing," Raoul interjected.

"Alouette's son did," Belle countered, smiling through her tears. "It was not a cry that came from his little mouth, but a perfect musical note that held more beauty and soul than any physical attribute could ever express. And in that moment, I looked past his face and loved what I saw. . . I _loved_ the person underneath the broken mask of flesh and bone."

The two were absolutely still and the room became silent as Belle finished her tale. Then after several long minutes Raoul looked at the crying woman and his face twisted up in an almost pained expression.

"Why have you told me this?"

Belle took Raoul's hand in hers once again and met his gaze with sad and gentle eyes that held years of experience and anguish, and she leaned in and whispered to him.

"I know that you hunt my cousin. . . For he is the one who took your beloved from you. But I owe you a life debt, so I _will_ tell you where they were headed._ If _you make me a promise."

Raoul looked at her hesitantly. "What promise?"

"If you find them, you must not kill Erik."

Raoul visibly cringed at the name. When Madame Giry had first regaled her story of the Phantom, the woman had spoken his true name aloud, and now the simple commoners title was enough to make the Vicomte wretch.

"I cannot promise you such a thing, Madame." He said stiffly. "He is murderer. . . An insane monster that thrives off of darkness and decay. I cannot. . . I _will_ not let him hurt anyone else!"

Belle clung to him then, her hands surprisingly strong and her fear clear on her pretty face. But when she opened her mouth it wasn't merely words that came out, but a doleful melody that made Raoul's heart quiver and his resolve shake in it's very foundations. It was a tune that would haunt Raoul de Chagny until the end of his days.

"_**Mercy Master . . . Please let him go, Young Master . . . Leave . . . the . . . one . . . I love . . . **_

_**Please, Young Master! Don't look back, dear Master. Leave your hate behind. . . **_

_**The past is cruel, the past is mean. It's hard to keep your conscience clean. Let my monster go. Now that you know . . . **_

_**Let my Phantom live!"**_

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_**Author's Note: **_

Since my OC Belle Delacour was introduced in the 3rd chapter of this story I have planned this moment of revelation for you. ^^ Since the day I created her I knew thatBelle was Erik's cousin, but I wanted to make it a dramatic announcement rather than just coming out and telling you bluntly. I hope you've all enjoyed my little surprise. (Now you know why Erik jumped into a frozen river to try and save her.)

The song Belle sings is my twist on the lyrics of a song from the musical sequel of Phantom of the Opera: _**Love Never Dies **_and the song I used is called _**Why Does She Love**** Me**. _Near the end of the song, Meg Giry has several small phrases and the beautiful melody that she sings is the one Belle uses here in this chapter. If you would like a direct link to the song please PM me. I want you to hear it and get the same case of shivers I did.

Please leave reviews and tell me whatcha think! I love to hear from you guys!

_**~Lyn Harkeran**_


	17. Chapter Seventeen: Debtor's Thanks

**Chapter Seventeen: Debtor's Thanks**

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It was nearing 6:00 o'clock when Fantine finally hung up her work apron, donned her winter-shawl, and walked towards the workers exit of the factory where she had toiled daily for several years. Having been on her feet since 6:00 that morning, the young mother was a severely fatigued, but found an extra reserve of strength in the thought of her little girl patiently waiting for her return.

Slowly, Fantine walked out into the chilly evening air and took in a great breath of the cleansing wind, and she smiled. Though the winter months meant freezing nights and a shortage of food, it was undeniably a beautiful time of year. And with the clouds of putrid smoke rising from the factory's many chimneys the woman was beyond thankful for the rush of breeze that met her nose and eager lungs.

Fantine shouldered her shawl more comfortably around her shoulders, and quickly made sure that her long blonde hair covered her ears and neck properly. Then, being physically set, the woman and was about to start out on her journey homeward, when a large hand grasped her shoulder, forcefully keeping her in place. With wary eyes, Fantine gazed back and was met with the most unwelcome sight of the factory's Foreman towering over her.

Since Fantine had first procured her job nearly three years prior she had been submitted to the lecherous attentions of the workhouse Foreman. At every turn he spat crude innuendos and suggestions, and with each vile thing he said Fantine disgustedly sidestepped his advances. Though she had never been able to come out and tell him to take a whore instead, seeing as he was in charge of most of the hiring and firing for the factory. So, she endured his sexual mindset with a silent frown and constantly found excuses to be in large groups of women or men. But tonight, it seemed that luck had abandoned her. For when she looked around for help, she was met with an empty street in both directions and a very . . . _excited _looking Foreman.

"Did you need something, Monsieur _le_ Foreman?"

The moment the question escaped her lips, Fantine knew that it was a mistake, for the horrible man's eyes grew hungry and the hand that was currently holding her shoulder tightened. The pain that shot up her arm made the young woman cry out, but the man who currently held her didn't seem to notice or care.

"Fantine, what say you to a tumble? Then afterward I can walk you home."

His voice was utter poison to her ears, and the woman immediately refused.

"I sorry Monsieur, but I cannot delay. . . You must excuse me."

At her words, the Foreman's grip only became stronger, and Fantine felt the cold hands of dread fill the pit of her stomach. After years of build-up and tension it was finally happening. . . It had finally come to _this. _

"Let go," the woman said slowly, her tone never betraying her inner fear.

The Foreman opened his mouth to reply, a lecherous grin forming on his thin lips, but before he had the chance to speak, a new voice interrupted from the shadows. It was a deep baritone, rich in composition and eloquent in a way most men could never hope to achieve.

"You should heed Madame Fantine's request, Monsieur," the threat behind the words was obvious, and from the way the unseen man spoke, it was clear that his intentions were definite. "You would not be pleased by the result if she should find the need to ask _twice." _

The Foreman gazed around frantically- trying to find the intruder- and when he couldn't he called out. "Who's there?"

There was no verbal reply to the question, but when the unknown man stepped out of the shadows and came to stand before them, all inquiry was put to rest. Fantine nearly cried out in relief upon recognizing the speaker, and a steady smile grew on her face.

He stood tall and regal against his surroundings, a strong body housed beneath simple yet flattering clothes, and striking light green eyes peering out from behind a white mask that covered one side of his chiseled face.

It was Erik. . . It was the **_Phantom_**.

"You enter into affairs that don't concern you, sir," the Foreman said angrily, his hold never relinquishing from Fantine's now bruised shoulder. "You should leave."

The Phantom's gaze was nothing short of intimidating as he stared down the fiend before him, making the man of shorter personal stature physically and mentally shrink in fright.

"I will leave at once," Erik responded calmly, his voice liquid sulfur, "With the grace of the good Madame's presence."

The Foreman looked like he was about to interject again- though less assured than the first time- but Erik continued.

"If you do not release her, I shall _make _you. Now, make. Your. _Choice. _Monsieur. My patience grows thin."

Never before had the Foreman seen his own death in another eyes, but when he looked into the Phantom's he saw it ten fold. And with a face now matching the paleness of the snow, the Foreman's hand shot away from Fantine as if he had been burned, and without a further hesitation, the lecherous man turned tail and ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

The moment he was gone from sight, Fantine let a shaky gasp escape her and several tears fall from her eyes. It had been too close a call. She was lucky that Erik had come along when he did . . . otherwise things might have turned out a lot differently. And not in a positive way.

"_Merci_, sir," Fantine whispered gratefully, crying silently as her relief and fear came out full-force. Her tired eyes closed briefly at the feel of exhaustion and the new-found liberation of her companion's company. Then, she felt his presence closer than before and opened her eyes to see Erik standing only two feet away, looking at her with concern.

"Are you alright, Madame? Did he hurt you?"

Fantine gave him a shaky smile. "I'm fine . . . Thanks to you, Erik."

The Phantom still looked unconvinced, but gave her a smile of his own- albeit a little one. And his eyes unintentionally shone at the mention of his given name from the woman who he now called friend.

It had been nearly two and a half weeks since Erik and Christine had stumbled into Fantine and Cosette's cottage, and though it had been a short amount of time, the four were now very good friends. Only several days prior, Erik had broken through his brain fever with the help of medications and a visit from the town doctor- thanks to what little savings Fantine had. And now, despite the physicians' advice for the man to take things slow, he was up and about. Today was the third day that Erik had come to walk Fantine home, and never before had the woman been more thankful for his company than she was now.

"I should have gotten here sooner, as Christine advised," Erik said, holding out his arm for Fantine to take, which she did without a second thought. "He never should have touched you."

As they walked together towards the edge of Vertus- the town in question- Fantine squeezed his arm as a way of chiding.

"My problems are my own, Erik," she answered easily, though her mind was far from such a blissful outlook. "You and Christine have enough to deal with, without adding my burdens. The Foreman is a obstacle that I must face, pure and simple. And I will continue to do so until such a time as I am free of him."

The Phantom frowned, displeased that she had submitted to such a doldrum lot in life.

"You and your child should not be treated as you are."

"Our lives have good points and bad points," Fantine replied noncommittally. "And just because we will it to be different, doesn't mean it's going to be. We do what we must and we survive. We can ask for no more."

They continued to walk in silence for several long moments before the man spoke once more, though now his voice held a respect that hadn't been there before.

"You saved _my_ life, Madame _and_ Christine's."

"Christine was the one who saved you," Fantine interjected peacefully. "I did next to nothing."

"You paid for our care and have fed and sheltered us since we came to you. Never have you bartered with us or demanded payment."

Fantine patted the man's shoulder as she looked up at him, offering comfort and trying to brush off his kind words.

Though upon meeting Erik's calculating green eyes the young mother once more wondered at his story. After seeing him interact with Cosette and Christine in everyday situations, Fantine had truly come to pity him. Not due to his deformed face- for she felt no fear when looking upon it- but rather the pain that it had so obviously brought the man throughout his life.

Fantine had seen him without his mask a handful of times- because of his fever- but she had never seen the paramount of a man truly without one in place. Even though it was figurative, it was immovable. Even when he slept, a protective barrier hid him from those with prying eyes. And Fantine secretly despaired for him.

"I did what anyone would have done," Fantine said modestly, but Erik was already shaking his head.

"Not everyone would have taken in a Monster, Madame. . . I have an obligation to you and your child that can never be repaid."

"There is no need, Monsieur-"

"There is every need," Erik objected softly. "And I shall not take no for an answer."

Fantine was touched by his show of compassion, but she had never been keen on charity. "There is nothing you can give us that we _need_."

Erik gave her a small smile once more and dipped his head to her. "Then I shall wait until such a time as you think of a favor, Madame."

Fantine nodded gratefully, "Thank you, Monsieur."

The Phantom didn't say anything else as they continued on their way back towards the cottage where Cosette and Christine would be waiting for them- for he didn't need to. The gratitude and companionship was obvious to both. And soon, the two came face to face with the welcome sight of warm, lighted windows and little flutters of laughter from the cottage. Together, single mother and deformed composer entered, leaving behind the cold winter winds for the vibrant smells and happy feeling of the small shack that was home.

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**_A/N:_ **Writers block and life is evil, I have no other excuses for taking so long to update this story. ^^;

Before the next big plot line for this story comes into play, I wanted to have Fantine and Erik have a moment of fellowship. When you consider their pasts they have some things in common- abandoned by those they loved, shunned by society because they were different, and caring to those who they hold dear. For the rest of the story they will be friends, and the favor our dear Phantom owes her will be fun. (I can promise you guys that much! ;p )

On another note. . . how was the chapter? Was it good? Was Erik in-character? It's been a while since I've written him. Hehh hehh! Anyway, love you guys hope you're all doing well!

**_~Lyn Harkeran_**


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